


A Stranger Calls

by Katef



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-06-27 11:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 43,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15684393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katef/pseuds/Katef
Summary: Languishing in his apartment on medical leave, Detective Jim Ellison is persuaded to help the FBI on a supposedly routine assignment.  However, when things inevitably go wrong, he finds himself in the company of the last person he might have expected to be able to help him recover.





	1. Prompt - A Stranger Calls

**Author's Note:**

> I’m going to try to do a complete card again, but might not manage it this time around. Then again, nothing ventured, as they say! :)

**Chapter 1: Prompt – A Stranger Calls:**   


**#307, 852 Prospect:**  


Sprawled gracelessly on his sofa, Jim groaned as he clutched his head, trying vainly to control the pain that tore through his skull. Although logic told him that the knocking on his apartment door was no louder than it needed to be, to his over-sensitive hearing it was like having thunderclaps bursting directly overhead. Not only that, but suddenly he was aware of an almost overwhelming waft of cheap cologne, which caused him to sneeze explosively even as he levered himself to his feet. It was all part of the craziness that had afflicted him recently, and for which he had neither explanation or treatment, and it was driving him nuts. 

“All right, all _right!”_ he growled, levering himself awkwardly to his feet. “I’m coming! Keep your hair on!” 

Scratching unconsciously at the itching beneath the cuff of his lightweight sweater, he opened the door to reveal his unwitting tormenter, glowering at the complete stranger who stood there, a slightly arrogant smirk on his unremarkable features. 

“Detective Ellison? I’m sorry to disturb you,” he began insincerely, “but your Captain Banks said that you might be able to help us. I’m Special Agent Barney Myers, FBI,” he continued, reaching carefully into his breast pocket to produce his ID, which Jim snatched irritably from his hand in order to inspect it more closely. 

Satisfied that the object was genuine, Jim thrust it back at the now openly grinning agent. 

“So, you look like you are who you say you are, but what of it? You do realise that I’m on sick leave, don’t you? Why should I be helping you?” 

“Perhaps if you let me in, I can explain it better, Detective,” Myers replied smoothly, quirking an eyebrow at the plainly angry man. “You might want to call your captain to check whether I’m on the level?” he added sardonically, not realising quite how close he was getting to being punched on the nose by the irascible cop. 

After a pause, Jim managed to control his irritation somewhat, although it was a near thing, and muttered ungraciously, “Fine! Have it your way. Come in,” and he turned his back rudely on the agent as soon as the smug man stepped inside. Closing the door, Jim stalked over to take a seat on the sofa again, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing behind his eyes and the intermittent spikes of agony his senses were inflicting upon him. With a gargantuan effort, Jim was finally able to force his unruly senses into some sort of reluctant cooperation, but it didn’t make him any less antagonistic towards his unwanted caller. Like most regular cops, he distrusted the ‘fibbies’, disliking the habit they had of muscling in on cases, either to reap all the credit in a successful outcome, even as they would leave the local cops to take the flack in a bust gone wrong. 

Frowning up at Myers, who had followed him into the room, he jerked his head over towards the armchair furthest away from him, growling, “Sit down, then. I’m going to call my boss and find out just what crap this is all about.” 

Myers quirked an eyebrow at him, but otherwise appeared not to have taken offence at Jim’s inhospitable attitude. And that was enough to send Jim’s instinctive dislike of the man up another couple of notches. Praying that there was some mistake, Jim picked up the cordless phone on the coffee table and speed-dialled Simon, wincing as his ears protested the barked response. 

“Banks here. What do you need, Jim?” 

Knowing that Simon would have recognised his caller ID immediately, Jim wasted no time with pleasantries. 

“Got a feeb here who calls himself Special Agent Barney Myers. He says he needs my help, and that you OK’d it. How so, sir? You know I’m on medical leave!” 

Jim could hear the resigned sigh at the other end, and knew immediately that this wasn’t Simon’s choice. But he had to know, so he listened to his boss even as he glared at Myers, praying for an excuse to throw the man bodily out of his home. 

“Look, I’m truly sorry, Jim. I told the fibbies that they’d have to find someone else, but apparently only you will do. Let the man explain, Jim, and perhaps you’ll agree. In all honesty, I can’t order you to comply, but I feel it’s something you’ll take on, just because you’re a good cop, and an honest man. 

“But if you really don’t want to do it, call me back, OK? Just because we don’t know what’s wrong with you, doesn’t mean that I don’t sympathise, my friend.” 

Jim stared at the handset in consternation once he had terminated the call. Simon sounded genuinely unhappy with the situation, but Jim’s curiosity was piqued anyway. Perhaps he needed something to get his teeth into after all. Something to distract him from the painful symptoms of his recent unexplained hypersensitivity. 

Glaring coldly at Myers, he put the phone back down on the table. “OK, so tell me all about it. But I’m promising nothing, Myers. If I think it’s bullshit, I’m doing nothing, y’hear?” 

Myers frowned at that, but held his tongue rather than antagonise the big detective unnecessarily. Wiping his face clear of overt animosity, he leaned forward eagerly, resting his elbows on his knees as he met Jim’s gaze. His smile was shark-like as he began, already certain that this big dumb cop was hooked.  



	2. Prompt - Secret

**Chapter 2: Secret:**   


As Myers began his tale, Jim sat back in his seat, his expression a picture of ennui and scepticism. His head still ached abominably, and Myers’ cologne was burning the inside of his tender nostrils, not that he’d let any of that discomfort show. But if Simon reckoned that he’d be interested in the annoying agent’s story, then the least he could do was hear him out. 

“The man we want you to help us protect, Detective, is someone who is known to you. And he insists that he will only travel if you accompany him. Seems he doesn’t trust us to keep him safe!” Myers added, a sour grimace briefly twisting his features. “But perhaps I should start at the beginning,” he continued, his expression turning smug again. 

“This man is under our protection as he has vital information regarding a highly sensitive case we’re presently working on. He’s entering the Witness Protection Programme under the name of Karl Brightman. 

“The thing is, normally we would be flying him back to DC, but with the severe weather front forecast to come in so quickly, at least the first part of the trip will have to be by train, because flights from Cascade airport are sure to be grounded. It’s a pain in the ass, I know, but it’s our best option. We need to get him out of Cascade a.s.a.p.” 

“That’s all well and good Myers,” Jim grumbled, “but so far you’ve told me nothing of interest. What witness, and what case are you talking about? Seems to me that you’re wasting your time. I’m not interested in being a glorified bodyguard-cum-babysitter for you guys.” 

“Patience, Detective, I’m getting there!” the irritating man replied. “The man now known as Karl Brightman is better known to you as Sam Holland, and the valuable information he has is in regard to the alleged drug dealing connections of one Colonel Norman Oliver. I believe you are acquainted with him?” 

Now that really did make Jim sit up and take notice. Oh yes, he was acquainted with Colonel Oliver, all right. And even as he growled deep in his chest, his expression turning cold and deadly, his thoughts flew back to possibly the worst time of his life, images cycling rapidly and unmercifully before his mind’s eye. 

It had been Jim’s final mission as Captain in the army Rangers, and it had been very nearly a complete disaster. Flying out over the Peruvian forests with his team on a covert mission to protect the Chopec Pass from drug smugglers, their Huey had been shot down, and Jim was convinced that Oliver had had a hand in it. Flashes of explosions, the ground rushing up to meet them burned in his memory, as did the screams of his dying men; friends and comrades burning and broken as they spilled from the wreckage. He had been the only survivor, and had doggedly buried his team before collapsing himself, exhausted and hurt. 

He never knew how long he had lain there, next to the graves of his men, but he had eventually awoken to find himself in the hands of the Chopec tribesmen, who had nursed him back to health. With their help, he was able to continue with his mission for the next eighteen months before being repatriated to the US. He had received a hero’s welcome, and was even featured on the cover of a popular glossy magazine, but had been so traumatised and disillusioned by his treatment by the military that he had resigned his commission. 

Vague memories of a strange ability, coached and encouraged by Incacha, the Chopec shaman tried to surface, but he pushed them aside as irrelevant for the time being. It was Oliver who had his full attention now, and he knew he would do anything to bring that murdering bastard to justice. 

Sitting upright in his seat, he met Myers’ quizzical gaze. “OK, Myers, you’ve convinced me. I’m in,” he grated, the frown between his brows and the direct and steady stare of his ice blue eyes proof of his determination and focus. “Tell me what you need.” 

Myers’ grin was wide and self-satisfied as he responded with _faux_ sincerity. “Thank you, Detective. Or may I call you Jim? I knew we could rely on you. We’ll be leaving on tomorrow’s night train, so meet us at the station at 1800 hours. There’ll be four of us altogether, travelling in a private, separate compartment – you, Brightman, me and my colleague, Special Agent Daniel Ortiz. Your Captain Banks will be able to corroborate my arrangements, Jim, so I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.” 

So saying, he rose to his feet and headed for the door, his job done. 

And he left a very disturbed but resolute Jim Ellison watching his departing back.  



	3. Prompt - Bomb

**Chapter 3: Prompt – Bomb:**   


Once Myers had left the building, a highly agitated Jim walked over to the refrigerator to snag a beer. Popping off the top, he took a long swig, absently noting that his taste buds were cooperating for once. Perhaps being so emotionally distracted had temporarily disabled his hypersensitivity? Who knew? Whatever, he guessed he should be grateful for small mercies. 

Then again, all he was concerned about at that moment was pondering on everything Myers had told him, and the bitter memories he had evoked in Jim. The fact that Jim could enjoy a beer while he was doing it was a bonus. 

_Colonel Norman Fucking Oliver! God, how he hated that man!_ Jim ground his teeth together in fury as he contemplated the way that bastard had either directly or indirectly affected his life, and those of others dear to him. 

He was certain that Oliver was responsible for the deaths of his team, and consequently his own disillusionment with the military after his repatriation. But that wasn’t where the man’s influence had ended. Even after Jim had settled into his new career as a cop, the repercussions of Oliver’s criminal activities dogged his footsteps. 

Frowning darkly, Jim thought back to the recent case he’d been involved in, which had apparently set off the unruly hypersensitivity from which he now suffered, and which now threatened to end his career. 

A serial bomber, dubbed ‘the Switchman’ by the media, had targeted several locations around Cascade, citing Jim as the reason for setting each one. During a solo stakeout while investigating the case, Jim’s senses had sharpened to an almost unbelievable intensity, but without the ability to control them, Jim’s life had become a misery. And then it turned out that the Switchman was in fact one Veronica Sarris, the daughter of one of his men who had died in Peru. Already mentally unstable, she had trained in demolitions in the Navy until being discharged as unfit for duty. Blaming Jim for her father’s death, for surviving the crash himself, and for her own troubles, she wanted to make him suffer. Therefore, after being discharged from the Psychiatric Hospital to which she had been admitted, she took a job as a tour guide, and set out on her plan for revenge. 

Her final act was to wire a bus to blow, and although Jim did manage to take her down, he was unable to get all the passengers off to safety. Although heralded as a hero by the press and by his colleagues at the PD, the guilt of being the unwitting target of her insane desire for vengeance, and for all those innocents who had suffered as a consequence was slowly eating away at him. 

And it was all because of Oliver.  



	4. Prompt - PTSD

**Chapter 4: Prompt – PTSD:**   


Some while later after finishing his beer, Jim briefly considered fetching himself another one while he could still enjoy it, but decided against it. He never knew when his senses would spike again, and besides, he wanted to keep a clear head while he prepared for the upcoming security detail. He knew and liked Sam Holland, and if the man could help bring down Oliver, he deserved all the protection he could get. Like Sam, Jim had little confidence in the FBI agents, and if this was to be the last assignment he ever carried out as a cop, he wanted to do it well. He just prayed that he would be able to control his senses enough to be able to function to the best of his ability, and after Sam had been delivered to DC safely, he would most likely hand in his notice. He couldn’t go on like this, and the very worst of it was that no one seemed to believe him. 

Oh sure, Simon was sympathetic, and as his oldest friend on the force, was trying hard to cut Jim some slack. But it was obvious that he didn’t truly understand the extent of Jim’s sensory problems, and since the various medics Jim had seen were equally disbelieving, he had literally nowhere and no one left to turn to. Many of his friends and colleagues thought that he was either turning into some kind of pathetic, attention-seeking hypochondriac, or that he had lost his nerve and was bucking for discharge on medical grounds. Either way, the more cynical among them thought he was overdue a visit to the Funny Farm at the very least. 

A number of more caring individuals thought that he must be suffering from some sort of PTSD, either from the Switchman case, or a delayed reaction from his traumatic time in Peru, and that included his ex-wife and Head of Forensics, Carolyn Plummer. 

All Jim knew was that he was going slowly insane with the pain and mental distress he was suffering from on a daily basis now, and he could see no end to it. And the very worst thing was that he had begun to lose time on occasion, and that had been the final straw which had persuaded him accept Simon’s decision to put him on medical leave. Freezing up during a fire fight during which his colleagues could have been injured or killed wasn’t acceptable under any circumstances, and unless he could come up with some sort of cure, Jim knew his days as a cop were numbered. 

Then again, he wasn’t the type to mope or indulge overmuch in self-pity, so he threw his empty beer bottle in the recycling box and picked up the phone. He needed to call Simon and make the necessary arrangements for tomorrow night. Duty called, and he had no intention of ignoring it.  



	5. Prompt - (Wild Card) - An Unexpected Journey

**Chapter 5: (Wild card) An Unexpected Journey:**  


**Previous morning, Rainier University Campus:**  


“Sandburg! Hey, Blair, wait up!” Davy Mathews ran across the open courtyard, trying to attract the attention of the small figure about to climb the steps leading up to Hargrove Hall. His shout had the desired effect, and Blair stopped and turned to wait for him to catch up, a smile of welcome on his attractive face. However, once Davy had reached him, he couldn’t help but note the uncharacteristic sadness that shadowed the normally open and cheerful features. 

“You OK, Blair?” he asked worriedly. “I was just about to ask you if you were going to Jazzer’s end-of-term party on Friday night. Should be a lot of fun, and lots of the other TAs are going to be there.” 

Trying to put his friend at ease, Blair looked up into the older and taller man’s dark-eyed gaze, doing his best to hide his unhappiness. 

“Sorry, Davy. I’m fine, really. But I can’t make the party, I’m afraid. I’m going to be spending the Festive Season in Florida, as long as I can get there, that is!” he added with a forced chuckle. “Mom called me a couple days ago to ask me, and I don’t think I should refuse.” 

He didn’t elaborate, but Davy was a closer friend than most, and he could tell that there was a lot Blair wasn’t saying. 

“I hear you, ‘Burg, but why this year? Naomi often calls you, then backs out at the last minute. When was the last time you two actually hooked up for Xmas? Its’ got to be a few years!” 

Sighing, Blair looked away for a moment. He didn’t want to burden his friend with his troubles, but he also recognised the fact that Davy would be hurt if Blair didn’t at least give him a reasonable explanation. 

Turning back to face his friend’s concerned gaze, he said quietly, “I’m sorry, man, but this time I have to do it if I can. Naomi’s dying, man. She didn’t tell me before because she didn’t want to worry me! Can you believe it? But apparently she’s been battling cancer for the past year, and never let on to me. 

“Anyhow, seems that it’s spread too far to treat, and she doesn’t have long. A few months at the most. So she wants to enjoy the festivities with me and the friends she’s been staying with in West Palm Beach.” 

Davy didn’t hold back, and reached for his smaller friend to pull him in for a hug. “Hey, man, I’m so sorry, kiddo. For Naomi, for you and for pushing you to ‘fess up when I’m sure it’s the last thing you wanted to talk about. Is there anything I can do to help?” 

Pushing back so he could meet the kind eyes, Blair smiled sadly, appreciative of the offer as he knew it to be genuine. “No, man, but thanks all the same. She sent me some money for the trip, so at least I won’t have to hitch! Thing is, my car’s not up to that sort of road trip, and all the flights out of Cascade airport are likely to be cancelled when the storm hits tomorrow, so I’m going to catch the night train Friday night. Maybe I’ll be able to catch a flight somewhere out of the weather front. It’ll be fine.” 

Frowning uncertainly, Davy replied, “Well, if you’re sure, kiddo. Just don’t like to think of you doing some sort of ‘Planes, Trains and Automobiles’ caper. I know you’re as independent as all get out, but you have friends that care about you, you know.” 

“And I truly appreciate them, Davy, honestly!” Blair responded candidly, his grin more genuine now. 

“But look, if we don’t catch up before I leave, have a good one, man. And see you in the New Year!” 

Davy nodded amicably as he released his friend, not really convinced, but willing to believe that Blair would be OK after all. From what he knew of his younger friend’s past, he realised that Blair had been taking care of himself for years now, having started at Rainier at the tender age of fifteen, but he didn’t have to like it, or approve. But it was what it was, and who was he to criticise Blair’s hippy-dippy single parent Mom? Especially as it seemed that she was not long for this earth. Blair thought the world of her, and that was what counted. 

“You too, my man, and safe journey!” he grinned. “We’ll miss you!” And with that, he turned to go, an amorphous feeling of unease prickling the hairs on the back of his neck for a moment as he walked away.  


\-------------------------------------  


Jogging up the steps to Hargrove Hall, Blair felt momentarily lightened by his friend’s care and concern, but as he made his way down to his tiny, cluttered office-cum-storeroom, his thoughts darkened again as he contemplated the upcoming trip. Travelling itself didn’t faze him at all. After all, during his childhood he had followed in Naomi’s nomadic footsteps around the world, seeing more countries and absorbing more cultures than almost anyone else of such tender years. It was undoubtedly the reason why he chose to study anthropology after all. 

No, it was the inevitable emotional blood-letting awaiting him at the end of his journey that concerned him the most, and he was dreading the moment of their final parting. 

Thinking about Naomi led naturally to him contemplating the trip again, and he hoped that the threatened weather front wasn’t going to prevent him from reaching his destination in good time. Making his way across country –across continents even – was nothing new to him, and he was quick-witted and tough enough to tackle most potential obstacles. A lifetime of having to rely on his own abilities had made him independent and determined, and he was grateful for that. 

However, it had to be said that there was a downside to his itinerant early life. Although completely lacking in vanity, and not given to narcissistic self-analysis, there were facets of his character that had been adversely affected by his experiences. He had learned quickly not to give too much of himself and to forge strong relationships, because he was always saying goodbye once Naomi’s wanderlust got the better of her again. Certainly he was adept at integrating himself into whatever society or culture he found himself, but always as an outsider or observer. He was affable, easy-going and adaptable, but no one ever got to see the real Blair. Even now intimacy was something he fought shy of, the habit of keeping his heart to himself so ingrained that he didn’t even realise it was part of his behaviour. Sex was great, and he loved having friends, but as soon as the relationship got too heavy, he would head for the hills before someone got hurt, whether himself or his lover. 

But by far the worst aspect of his itinerant childhood was his feeling of insecurity. Although travelling with Naomi undoubtedly had its bonuses, only too often, in her constant search for love and enlightenment, Naomi would set off for some retreat or other where children weren’t welcome. On those occasions, she would leave her young son with friends or acquaintances without a backward glance, whether or not they appreciated the imposition. Certainly there were some people of whom Blair grew fond, who treated him well and loved him as best they could, but others weren’t so understanding. And there was always the fear that Naomi wouldn’t return for him, such that the young Blair developed a strong sense of uncertainty and low self-worth. 

To be sure, putting down roots in Cascade at fifteen in order to study at Rainier U had led to some improvement in those feelings, since his intellectual ability was never called into question. He could and did hold his own in academia even if his prodigious and precocious talent often irritated peers who were older and less smart than him. But at bottom, he could talk the talk and walk the walk with convincing ease, hiding his lack of self-esteem behind his consummate acting ability until even he could no longer distinguish the borders between the real and projected Blair Sandburg. 

So deep in thought was he that he startled in surprise when a figure stepped in front of him and placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. 

“Huh? Oh, hey, Eli! I’m sorry, man; I was wool-gathering there for a moment. What do you need?” 

Dr Eli Stoddard, professor of anthropology and Blair’s personal hero smiled down at his favourite protégé. “A word in your ear, if I may, Blair. I just wanted to touch base with you before the break on the subject of your dissertation. Is now convenient?” 

Frowning a little worriedly, Blair nodded. “Um, yeah, sure, Eli. I’m free for the next hour or so. Do you want me to come to your office?” 

“That would be best, I think. Come on, my boy. We might as well be comfortable and enjoy some good coffee, hey?”  


\---------------------------------  


Shortly afterwards, the two men were to be found seated on the comfortable overstuffed armchairs in Eli’s impressive office, savouring gourmet coffee from his personal machine. Although Blair truly appreciated the luxury, he couldn’t help but worry about what Eli wanted to discuss. He wasn’t kept waiting for long, though, as Eli placed his cup down on the table between them and met his young friend’s eyes. 

“Don’t look so stricken, Blair. It’s not that bad, I assure you! It’s just that your committee, and myself for that matter, are a bit concerned about the lack of progress in your dissertation. I want to ask you if you’re still determined to write about the possibility of full sentinels still existing in modern society. After all, you’ve said yourself that although you’ve traced people with one or two heightened senses, you’ve had no luck with finding the real deal. Your Master’s thesis on tribal sentinels was brilliant, my boy, but don’t you think you might be taking the subject a step too far?” 

Blair sighed quietly and looked away briefly before answering. He so didn’t need this now on top of everything he had going on, but there was no way he could be rude to his friend and mentor. Eli had watched over him and encouraged him from almost his first day at Rainier, and Blair knew full well that without such support, he might well have given up his studies, being too young, too smart, and too impecunious to fit in. 

Looking up again to meet Eli’s sympathetic gaze, he said, “You’re right, Eli, insofar as I still haven’t found the real thing. And yes, I know I’ve been dragging my feet. It’s just that the subject is still dear to me, and I hate the thought of giving up on it. But maybe it’s time to stop kidding myself. I do have ideas for other topics, so if it’s OK with you, this is what I’ll do. I have family commitments over the festive season, but when I get back, I’ll start thinking about an alternative, OK? And I’ll come see you to discuss it soon. Does that work for you?” 

Nodding agreeably, Eli replied, “That would be fine, my boy. Believe me, I do understand your disappointment. I myself had to change the topic of my dissertation not once, but twice! It’s not easy to accept that your heart wants to follow an unattainable goal with an unrealistic subject. 

“But I’ve kept you long enough. Go and enjoy the festive season with Naomi, and come see me on your return.” 

Blair offered him a slightly forced smile. He knew that Eli had no idea about Naomi’s state of health, but had no intention of burdening his friend with the truth. 

“Thanks, Eli. For being so understanding. I really will give this some thought, and I’ll see you in the New Year. Have a good one, man!” and with that, he rose to his feet and exited the office, his mind and emotions in even more turmoil than before. Some holiday this was going to be!   



	6. Prompt - Station

**Chapter 6: Prompt – Station:**   


**Friday evening, Cascade Railway Station:**  


The scene that greeted Jim on his arrival at Cascade Railway Station was little short of organised chaos. Anxious would-be travellers milled around seemingly aimlessly while people who had obviously managed to procure tickets pushed and shoved their way onto the platforms. Wincing at the assault on his senses as the cacophony of sounds battered his ears and the myriad smells hit his nostrils, for a moment Jim was sorely tempted to turn right around and beat a hasty retreat. However, his sense of duty won out, so with a huge effort of will, he managed to push back somewhat against the agony, and stalked over towards the Manager’s Office, where he had arranged to meet up with Agents Myers and Ortiz, and their prize witness, Sam Holland aka Karl Brightman. As he walked, he thought about the upcoming trip, reluctantly approving the FBI agent’s decision to utilise the night train after all. The predicted weather front had indeed closed in, dumping several inches of snow on the region, with more to come. As anticipated, Cascade Airport was closed, and the roads were treacherous, so for those folks determined to travel for the Christmas break the train was the only option. And even that was only running a limited service, so available tickets were at a premium. Why the hell they couldn’t cut their losses and stay at home was a mystery to Jim, whose uncharitable thoughts didn’t help assuage his bad temper any as he pushed open the Manager’s Office door. 

Holding out his badge, he identified himself to the uniformed clerk behind the counter, who nodded agreeably and indicated the door to the inner office at the far end of the room. 

“Please go ahead, Detective Ellison. Your party is expecting you,” the elderly man said politely, his grey eyes twinkling in a lined but pleasant face. 

Nodding his thanks, Jim walked over to the door, entering the room to find Myers, Ortiz and Sam / Karl seated comfortably in the Manager’s easy chairs, while the man himself perched uneasily on the chair behind his desk. A swift assessment by Jim told him that the man - a plump, pompous-looking individual – was less than pleased to have his office invaded by Federal agents, and was trying to reassert his authority with little success. To all intents and purposes, his three ‘visitors’ were ignoring him, their full attention focussed on boarding the train and getting safely underway. 

When Jim entered, the man he instantly recognised as his old friend and ex-comrade Sam Holland rose to his feet, holding out his hand in greeting. It had been some years since Jim had seen him last, but the careworn features and strained expression undoubtedly had more to do with the stress he was presently under than the passage of time. 

“Jim, man, it’s so good to see you!” Sam said effusively, shaking Jim’s hand heartily. “Thanks for agreeing to come with me, Jim. I needed to know there was someone I could trust, and I know that you’re probably as keen to see Oliver get his comeuppance as I am. I’m only sorry I let it go on so long without coming forward.” 

Returning the other man’s handshake amicably, Jim quirked him a grin as he replied, “Doesn’t matter, Sam. At least you’re doing the right thing now, and you’re right. I _do_ want to see that bastard go down. He’s got too much blood on his hands already.” 

Their reunion was disturbed by a forced cough from Myers, and they turned to face the smirking agent, their identical expression one of tight-lipped irritation and barely-concealed dislike. Not that the thick-skinned agent could care less; as was obvious in his own smug and self-satisfied demeanour. 

“Glad you could make it, Ellison,” he purred smoothly. “Mr Briggs here has arranged for us to have a private sleeping compartment to ourselves, so we can board as soon as you’re ready. OK with you?” 

Nodding brusquely, Jim caught Sam’s eye again, glimpsing the nervousness that the other man fought to contain. Jim knew it must be a terrifying situation to be in; under pressure to reveal information that not only threatened a powerful adversary, but put the bearer in great danger of retaliation. Even entering the Witness Protection Programme was no guarantee that there wouldn’t be some sort of reprisal somewhere down the line, so no wonder Sam looked as if he had aged twenty years. 

Rising to their feet, the agents joined them, Myers offering an insincere word of thanks to the red-faced Briggs for his cooperation. While Ortiz took station on Sam’s left, Jim took his right, and when Myers opened the door and preceded them into the outer office, Jim glanced sideways at his ‘protectee’. “You OK, Sam? Or should I call you ‘Karl’ now,” he added in a feeble attempt at humouring the anxious man. 

“You can call me whatever you want, Jim, including ‘bloody idiot’,” Sam replied wryly. “I just want this over with, you know?” 

“Yeah, I do,” Jim murmured sympathetically. “So let’s do this!” 

With all three escorts on high alert, the small group made their way as quickly as possible to the platform where the night train was already standing, to be allowed to board as soon as they arrived and identified themselves to the guard on duty. Aware of the irritated and envious glances sent their way by the other passengers milling around, Jim automatically scanned faces and body language for signs of malicious intent. Seeing none, he was about to board behind Sam and the two agents when he caught a glimpse of a face that made him pause briefly, but not for any suspicious reason. Further down the platform, a young, curly haired figure waited patiently in line, a battered backpack over his shoulder as he stood, apparently deep in thought. Even in profile he looked distressed and vulnerable, and for reasons he couldn’t begin to understand, Jim found himself wishing that he could see the kid’s face properly. And as if in answer to his wishes, for a brief moment the kid turned to face him, and their eyes locked before the kid glanced away again, but not before Jim had greedily registered and catalogued his features. He noted the huge, mournful blue eyes, neat nose and high cheekbones; the wide brow and lush-lipped mouth any woman would kill for. But the young man wasn’t at all feminine, with his five o’clock shadow and strong chin. Just incredibly beautiful in a purely masculine way. 

And obviously very troubled. 

However, the interaction was over in seconds, and Jim stepped up into the train, all business again. He had a job to do, and that didn’t include drooling over complete strangers, even if he couldn’t quite quell his instinctive desire to protect and comfort the sad youngster. It was Sam he was here for, and that was an end to it.  


\-------------------------------  


As far as Blair was concerned, the situation at the station was no big of a deal. Without hypersensitivity to trouble him, this was no worse than the sort of chaos he had encountered during his travels. Indeed, it hardly compared with the conditions he had experienced on the railways of the Indian sub-continent or parts of South America, so had no bearing on his present depressed state of mind. He had, after all, been able to secure a regular seat on the train, even if he couldn’t run to a sleeper, and since he was normally a ‘glass half full’ kind of guy, it was good enough for him. 

But his present uncharacteristic pessimism was entirely due to his concerns for what lay ahead of him at the end of his journey. He simply couldn’t envisage life without Naomi. Sure, she had hardly been real ‘mommy’ material during his unconventional childhood, and had failed to be the constant in his life that studying and learning had become for him, but in her own inimitable way, she had loved him as best she could, and he had returned that affection with all his heart. They might only meet up now on the rare occasions that she dropped by on one of her flying visits, but to know that that bright spark was to be prematurely extinguished didn’t bear thinking of, and he had no idea how he was going to face it. 

He was peripherally aware that a small party of passengers was boarding a couple of coaches up from where he stood, which, judging by the grumbling and disapproving muttering and black looks from those around him wasn’t going down at all well. However, although unconcerned from his own point of view, since he assumed they must be some sort of VIPs or some such, he still had a feeling that he was being watched. Suddenly aware of a frisson of anxiety…fear… _what the hell?_.prickling between his shoulder blades, he glanced over to find his eyes caught in the intense blue gaze of one of the most gorgeous men he had ever laid eyes on. He had the fleeting impression of classically handsome features, a buff body and innate strength of body and mind, and then it was gone as the man climbed into the carriage. 

Shaking himself out of his mini funk, Blair shrugged inwardly. This was no time to be fantasising about complete strangers, and he was certain that the strange connection he had sensed must have been in his imagination. The guy was probably some sort of bodyguard, and would hardly look at someone like Blair twice under normal circumstances, so he told himself to get over it and get with the programme. 

And at that point the crowd surged forward, allowed to board the train at last, and his attention was fully occupied with trying to find his seat and settle himself for the journey.  



	7. Prompt - Night Train

**Chapter 7: Prompt – Night Train:**   


**Some hours later:**  


Blair rotated his stiff shoulders and smiled over at his temporary travelling companion. “Time to pay a visit and stretch my legs,” he whispered, in deference to the sleeping child beside him. “Won’t be long!” 

His new friend smiled back, nodding gently. “OK, Blair, and thanks again.” 

Once Blair had settled in his seat, he had been joined by a young mother travelling with a baby and little girl of around three-four years old. The woman looked exhausted and fraught, and the children were fractious through tiredness and hunger, so Blair offered to help entertain the little girl for a while to give her mom a break. He liked children, and interacted well with them, and soon had the little girl enthralled by tales of far countries and customs, keeping her occupied so that her mom, Suzanne, could concentrate on feeding and settling the baby. Once the children had finally fallen asleep, Blair and Suzanne had chatted briefly. She had told him that she was on her way to join her husband in DC, where he had started a new job. The idea was to spend the festive season with family, then look around for accommodation ahead of relocating to the area. She admitted that she had been dreading the journey, and was very grateful to Blair for his help. 

As for Blair, he had made no mention of the real reason for his trip, just said that he too was travelling to meet up with family. But the interaction with the children had been no hardship for him, and had in fact helped him also, as it had taken his mind off his own troubles. But now the small family were apparently settled for the night, he knew he needed to answer the call of nature and also stretch his legs some. Automatically picking up his ever-present backpack, he eased out of his seat, leaving his old duffel in the overhead luggage space. He hoped that on his return he might be able to catch some zzzs himself, hopefully undisturbed by thoughts about Naomi, although he doubted it. 

Making his way up the carriage as quietly and carefully as possible in deference to the other passengers who were attempting to get some sleep, he arrived at the nearest toilet to find it already occupied, and with several other passengers waiting in line. Deciding that he might as well go on a bit further to the next one, he moved into the next coach, which was one of the sleeper carriages. He walked carefully up the small corridor running the length of the carriage, and found that the toilet at the far end was free. Grinning in relief, he took care of business, and spent a short while freshening up a little, since there was no queue waiting impatiently outside. 

However, on emerging from the cubicle, he squeaked in surprise when a large hand clamped onto his collar and something hard jabbed him in the back. A harsh voice grated in his ear, “Shut up and do as you’re told, kid, or I’ll shoot, OK?” 

Nodding frantically, Blair cooperated as he was virtually frog-marched up the corridor of the next sleeping car, to be shoved into one of the compartments. 

And his horrified eyes took in a nightmarish scene.  


\--------------------------------------  


While Blair had been entertaining his new little friend, Jim had been occupying himself by checking out the compartment, his travelling companions, and the train’s progress; constantly on the alert for any signs of trouble, however unexpected. For once his senses were cooperating with him, and although intensely grateful for the fact, he didn’t question it. Whatever outside influence was working for him, he’d just take it for as long as it lasted. He and Sam had chatted desultorily and played a few hands of cards to alleviate the boredom, trying to ignore the supercilious sneers of Myers, who sat silently studying them as if they were some sort of alien or inferior species. Jim would dearly have liked to wipe the smug grin off of the agent’s face, but it simply wasn’t worth the effort. 

On the other hand, Agent Ortiz bothered him in an entirely different way. He too was taciturn, but his attitude was almost the opposite of Myers’. Watchful, intense and alert; almost as if he expected either Jim or Sam to try and escape his custody or try to overpower him. 

Either way, it didn’t make for a comfortable atmosphere in the compartment, and Jim found himself wishing the journey over with as soon as possible. 

As Sam finally stretched out on the upper berth of the sleeper in an effort to relax, Jim kept up his own watchfulness, checking out the guard who periodically walked up and down the corridor outside the compartment. He also noted the train’s progress, tensing slightly every time it slowed either because of the weather conditions outside or in order to stop at the occasional station en route. Only when they set off again did he relax a little until the next time. 

At one point on his way to take a bathroom break, he looked out of the window at the passing landscape, seeing the snow still falling and noting with satisfaction that he could see surprisingly well despite the darkness outside. He hadn’t realised before how good his night vision was now, and thought that it might actually be a beneficial bonus arising from his new hypersensitivity. But then again, it was only of use if he could continue to control it, and he had no illusions that his present comfort level was anything but temporary. 

Returning to the compartment, he had just sat down when he felt the train slow down yet again. Instantly alert, he turned to face Myers when the agent addressed him offhandedly. “It’s OK, Detective. We’re just stopping at a level crossing to let another train through. Nothing for you to get worked up about,” he added rather patronisingly. 

But Jim instinctively knew that there was something afoot, and he wasn’t wrong. However, before he could react, several things happened at once, none of which he could have done anything about anyway. 

Even as Myers finished speaking, Jim noticed a guard approaching their compartment. A guard he hadn’t seen before. But he had no chance to make his concerns known, because as the stranger opened the sliding door, his free hand reaching inside his jacket to produce a large handgun, another closer movement distracted Jim. His eyes as cold and deadly as a shark’s, Daniel Ortiz produced a similar handgun, complete with silencer, and without so much as a word of warning, he shot Barney Myers in the heart at close range. The officious agent didn’t even have time to voice his astonishment, dying instantly with an irritated frown frozen on his face. 

Hand half-way to reaching for his own handgun, the next thing Jim knew, he was looking down the barrel of both Ortiz’s and the strange guard’s semi autos, with no chance of retaliating. 

“Sit still, Ellison, and you might not get hurt,” Ortiz told him, his tone dispassionate. “Hand over your weapon, butt towards me, and then reach for your backup .38 with your left hand. The one in your ankle holster,” he added patiently. 

Jim had no option but to do as he was ordered, although he had little expectation of surviving this situation whatever Ortiz said. Having completed the task, he stared into Ortiz’s eyes, sensing Sam shifting above and behind him, doubtlessly terrified at the new turn of events. 

“So what now, Ortiz? Are you in Oliver’s pocket too? When did you decide to turn traitor?” 

Ortiz didn’t even try to deny it. “None of your business, Ellison. Purely financial is all. So, as soon as the train stops at the level crossing, we’ll be taking Holland with us. It’s up to you whether you stay here alive or dead.” 

Just then, the door opened again, and another uniformed ‘guard’ appeared. But this one was pushing an obviously terrified young man before him. Virtually throwing the small figure through the door, Jim automatically reached out to catch the other man before he hit the floor in front of Jim. Steadying the shaking body, he stared into the wide-eyed blue gaze, astonished to see none other than the young man he had spotted on the platform. 

“What the hell is going on here?” he growled. “What’s this kid got to do with you?” 

“Absolutely nothing,” Ortiz replied coldly, his expression finally betraying a touch of aggravation. “Where did you find him?” he demanded of the other guard; a big, hard-faced thug who was leering at Jim and the kid as if they were some sort of easy prey there for his sole entertainment. 

“He was using the john just down there. I had to grab him before he saw anything and gave the game away,” the man grunted. 

“OK. Well, perhaps he can be of use after all. At least for as long as needed,” Ortiz muttered thoughtfully. 

“You, kid, reach into Ellison’s jacket pocket and grab his handcuffs. Careful, now, or you’ll get the same as him,” and he jerked his head towards his ex-partner’s cooling body. 

Hands shaking, Blair met Jim’s concerned gaze, his own eyes telegraphing his fear and an apology as he reached into Jim’s inside pocket. Withdrawing the handcuffs, he looked over at Ortiz, awaiting further instructions. 

“OK, kid, snap one cuff around Ellison’s right wrist, and the other around your left one. Then give me the key. And do it quickly. Time’s running short.” 

Blair did as he was bid, sitting close beside Jim on the lower berth as the train slowed to a stop. 

“OK, Gentry, make sure there’s no one around, then make your way to the end door,” Ortiz ordered the first guard. “I’ll be close behind with Holland. You, Cavanagh, stay with these two. If they make any trouble, finish them off. Don’t worry; you’ll be met at the next stop. You won’t be left behind, soldier!” 

So saying, he followed the man called Gentry out into the corridor, pushing a white-faced and resigned-looking Sam Holland before him. Jim knew that Holland realised that his time was up, but had no words of comfort to offer him. He had failed in his escort duty, and now all he could hope to do was protect the trembling young man huddled on the seat beside him. Sentinel hearing picked up the sound of a door slamming, and footsteps running away from the stationary train, muffled by the snow. 

Sighing heavily, he turned to study his unwilling fellow prisoner. This definitely wasn’t anything he had prepared for, and he could only hope that the kid was made of sterner stuff than he appeared to be at first impression.  



	8. Prompt - Handcuffed / bound together

**Chapter 8: Prompt – Handcuffed together:**   


With the train moving once again, Jim was running through as many options as he could think of to get both himself and his reluctant fellow-prisoner out of this mess. Experience, and his cop’s instinct told him that time was running out, and that if they were to survive this situation, he would have to make a move before they reached the next station, whenever that was. He had absolutely no reason to hope that Cavanagh would leave them alive when he got off the train to meet up with his partners-in-crime. Oliver’s connections were powerful, and his reach was long – longer even than Jim had believed – so it was up to him to do something, and fast. 

However, as he catalogued the kid huddled at his side, he was forced to admit that it seemed unlikely that he could expect any help from that source. Although not quite the ‘kid’ that Jim had first thought, being probably in his early to mid-twenties, the young man was obviously in shock, and appeared to be fighting to contain an almighty panic attack. It was going to be up to Jim to try and get through to him and calm him down enough so that even if he didn’t actively act to help in their escape attempt, at least he wouldn’t go into melt-down and sabotage Jim’s efforts unnecessarily. 

Looking over to meet the cold eyes of their guard, he noted the uncomfortable way the big man was perched on the opposite berth as far away from Myers’ gaping corpse as he could. 

“Hey, Cavanagh, how about you pull a blanket or something over him?” and he nodded at the body. “No need to sit here with that staring at us, huh?” 

The guard glowered at him, but nevertheless reached out with his free hand and yanked the blanket from behind him, which he threw awkwardly over the corpse. 

Beside him, Jim felt the young man’s tension lessen fractionally, and when he turned to look down at the kid, he was offered a pale imitation of a smile. 

“Thanks, man,” the smaller man whispered feelingly. “That was really creeping me out.” 

“S’OK, kid,” replied Jim quietly but kindly. “It wasn’t doing much for me either, tell the truth. So, what brings you here?” 

Apparently quite happy to talk to take his mind off their dire position, the young man grinned wryly, although his eyes remained both mournful and scared. “Name’s Blair Sandburg, and I’m a grad student at Rainier U. Anthropology,” he began, unmindful of the disdainful smirk and snigger his words elicited from their captor. “I’m supposed to be making my way to Florida to meet my mom at West Palm Beach.” 

Jim nodded sympathetically, although the greater part of his attention was still on figuring out a means of escape. “So, wrong place at the wrong time, huh, Chief?” he answered, unsurprised when the kid – Blair’s - face fell again. 

“Yeah, my karma really sucks lately,” came the sad reply, and Jim felt a pang of real empathy with the young man’s evident pain and misery. 

“Well, I’d like to say ‘pleased to meet you, Mr Sandburg’, but that wouldn’t be appropriate, I guess. But anyway, my name’s Jim Ellison. I’m a detective in Cascade PD’s Major Crimes Unit. And I’m truly sorry you got caught up in this mess.” 

However, he didn’t have unlimited time to spend in comforting his companion, so Jim concentrated once more on wracking his brains to come up with a diversion good enough to overpower and disarm their guard. And it was then that his senses decided to kick in, and managed to achieve just that, even if he didn’t fully appreciate it at the time. 

All of a sudden, his sense of smell spiked, and he was instantly overwhelmed by the coppery tang and sickly-sweet scents of clotting blood and other body fluids emanating from the decomposing corpse, and the strong body odour of their guard. Coupled with the usual smells associated with public transport, it was too much, and he sneezed explosively before coughing harshly, his eyes watering and lungs heaving in distress. Beside him, the young man tried to offer his support, while Cavanagh growled angrily at the disturbance. 

“What the fuck’s wrong with you, cop? You puttin’ it on or somethin’?” 

“No way, man!” Blair responded quickly, while rubbing Jim’s bicep with his free hand. “This is for real. Perhaps he’s allergic to something!” then, to Jim, “You OK, Jim? Breathe, man. That’s it. Nice and easy.” He kept up the gentle litany for a few minutes, and suddenly Jim found that he could breathe freely again. The kid’s gentle tones soothed him, and his touch seemed to pull his wayward senses into line. 

But he wasn’t going to let Cavanagh know that, so he continued to cough and splutter alarmingly until the big guard could stand it no longer. Rising to his feet, he moved towards his captives, intending to do something – anything – to stop the noise, when Jim surged to his feet, head-butting Cavanagh in the solar plexus hard enough to bring the man down, his breath whooping from his lungs as he crashed to the floor. Although hampered by the cuffs, Jim delivered a hard kick to the downed villain’s groin, which was enough to put him out of action for as long as needed. Scooping up the man’s dropped handgun, Jim shoved it into his empty shoulder holster while pulling a shocked and bemused Blair unceremoniously to his feet. 

“Come on, Chief. Time to get out of here!” and he opened the sleeper compartment’s door, peering around for signs of unwanted intruders. 

Unable to argue or withstand Ellison’s urgent commands and determined energy, Blair found himself dragged from the compartment in Jim’s wake, only just managing to grab his backpack by the straps as he went, clinging on to it like a limpet as he was hustled towards the nearest door. On the way, Jim grabbed and pulled the emergency cord, bracing Blair as the long, heavy train immediately began to screech to a reluctant, grinding halt. 

“Come on, Chief. We’ve got to get off!” he hissed, throwing open the door and peering out, looking for the most suitable spot. It was going to hurt, wherever they jumped, but he wasn’t going to throw them off a bridge or into a gully if he could help it, and he prayed that the snow would help cushion their fall also. He knew Sandburg was doing his best to argue and reason with him, but there was no time left, so he ignored him. “Here it comes!” he shouted above the noise of the train’s emergency braking. “Ready, now, _jump!_ ” and he grasped Blair’s wrist tightly, forcing the young man to leap off with him rather than just fall like a dead weight. 

They hit the ground in flurry of arms and legs, rolling down the snow-covered embankment Jim had spotted until they hit bottom, just below a thick stand of trees. Jim did his best to protect the smaller body as they rolled, but as soon as they stopped, he quickly checked the other man over. 

“You OK, Chief?” he asked urgently. “We’ve got to get moving. Get among the trees before we’re seen!” 

Winded, Blair wheezed out, “Jeez, man! What was that about? You disabled the bad guy, so why jump?” 

“No time now, Chief. Gotta get moving,” Jim replied grimly. “I’ll explain once we’re in the clear. But for now, move it, kiddo. We need to put some distance between us and that train. At least the snow will help cover our tracks….”  



	9. Prompt - White out

**Chapter 9: Prompt – White out:**   


They had covered a good distance before Jim allowed them to rest a little, his acute hearing telling him that they weren’t being pursued, and that the train was moving off again. They were in open country now, having once cleared the thick belt of trees, and the featureless, snow-covered expanse was daunting for Blair at least. Exhausted, shivering and in pain, he was nearly at the end of his tether, and he still didn’t know why they were on the run. 

“Jim, man, I have to sit down for a bit,” he gasped, teeth chattering. “It’s freezing here, and I’m winded!” 

Dropping down beside him, since the cuff chain wasn’t long enough to give him an option, Jim muttered, “OK, Chief. Just for a few minutes then, OK? We don’t want to be caught out in the open for the rest of the night. Neither of us is exactly dressed for the great outdoors, especially in the middle of a snowstorm. I thought I saw a building not too far away, so even if it’s just a shack, we need to get to it.” 

Despite his discomfort, Blair couldn’t help but glance quickly at his companion. “You could see it? In these conditions?” he murmured thoughtfully. To his straining eyes, this was as near to a white out as he had ever experienced, so Jim’s vision must be exceptional. “Just like you said you could hear the train move off! That’s pretty amazing, Jim.” He was also thinking about Jim’s sneezing reaction in the train, and it was certainly getting his cold and sluggish brain working as he considered the implications. But this was no time to be interrogating his what? Saviour? Or just another captor? Whoever he was, Blair knew he had no option but to trust the man to get him to shelter, so everything else could wait until they were reasonably safe from the elements at least. 

Aware of his companion’s rapidly deteriorating condition, Jim soon forced Blair back to his feet. “Come on, Chief. Gotta get moving again. You’re soaked and slowly getting hypothermic, and I need you to keep with me. If we stay here, we’ll both die, and I have no intention of doing that, or letting you do it either.” 

“S…s…sure, Jim,” Blair replied, his teeth chattering so much now that he could hardly get his words out. “S…s …sorry, man. Kn…know I need to move. J…j…just so t…t…tired all of a sudden.” 

Instantly concerned, Jim pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back and arms vigorously for a few minutes to try and restore some sort of feeling. After a moment, Blair met his worried gaze, his face and expression trying to convey his determination not to let Jim down. 

“Th…thanks, man. I know I have to k…k…keep going. Travelled a lot as a k…k…kid. And b…b…been on expeditions. J…just usually in warm, j…jungle conditions. C…c…cold and w…w…wet is my world now!” he finished wryly, trying hard to force his frozen features into a grin. 

Feeling both a surge of pity for the suffering young man, and proud of his dogged determination, Jim grinned in response. “We’ll make it, Chief. Even if I have to carry you, OK? It really isn’t that far now.” 

So saying, they set off again, Blair simply concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, still clinging tenaciously to the backpack that he refused to relinquish. He looked neither ahead of him nor behind, relying on Jim to keep him going in the right direction. Even so, he was ready to collapse when he felt Jim stop, and he raised weary eyes to see that they were standing in front of a wooden hut. With its roof covered in several inches of snow, and drifts already building around its sides, Blair couldn’t tell what condition it was in, but right then he didn’t care if it was occupied or not. It was shelter of a sort, and he needed to be inside, and now. 

Jim was apparently of the same mind, because after a few seconds scanning the place for signs of life, he led Blair up to the locked front door, testing it for strength. 

“S’OK, Chief, I can do this,” he murmured, setting his shoulder to the rotting wood. Once, twice he rammed into it with all his might, and suddenly they were falling inside, the splintered wood around the lock giving way with a rending crash. Pushing the damaged door back into place in an effort to keep the still swirling snow out, Jim looked around him, while Blair simply lay where he had fallen, very nearly out for the count. Jim knew he’d have to do something for his companion before he could rest, because at this rate, he might well end up being shackled to a frozen corpse, and he had no desire to have that happen, especially as he was already beginning to discover an unexpected fondness for the young man. It might have been instinctive, a true physical attraction, or a result of their unplanned and trying circumstances, but it was what it was, and he didn’t have the time or inclination to ponder on the feeling right now. Blair needed him, and he was willing to do his best for them both. 

An almost sub-vocal whisper from the now virtually comatose man beside him immediately drew Jim’s attention. “B…b…backp…p…pack. Fr…front p…pocket. Sw…Swiss Army kn…knife.” 

“What? What did you say? You have a knife in there and you didn’t say anything?” Jim gasped incredulously. “Why the hell not?” 

But he was speaking to himself, as Blair was now completely dead to the world, so with an irritated huff, Jim reached over to unzip the backpack’s front pocket as instructed. And there he found the Swiss army knife which he seized with alacrity. Quickly using one of its tools to unlock the cuff around Blair’s wrist, he then set about freeing his own wrist, muttering imprecations under his breath as he worked. He wondered why the kid hadn’t ‘fessed up immediately about having the means to separate them, and tasked himself with discovering the reason for the omission once they were in a better condition, but for now he had work to do. 

Nearing exhaustion himself, yet Jim rose to his feet, his enhanced vision enabling him to study the dark interior of their temporary shelter with relative ease. It was apparently a rather ramshackle hunting cabin, its musty and damp condition suggesting that it hadn’t been used for many months, if not years. But it had basic, rustic furniture that included a bunk bed, and he immediately homed in on it. Covered in a dusty drop cloth, its removal revealed coarse blankets folded on a lumpy mattress, and Jim eagerly seized one. Blair needed to be stripped of his sodden clothing and dried off as soon as possible. 

Turning Blair on his back, Jim immediately began to fight with buttons and zips, his own fingers clumsy with cold. However, he managed to strip the young man down to his boxers, and then began to rub him briskly with the rough blanket, paying particular attention to the long, saturated curls. As soon as Blair was as dry as Jim could get him, Jim heaved him into his arms with a grunt of exertion, and deposited him in the bunk. Quickly following suit, he climbed in beside him, pulling the smaller body close; skin to skin and chest to chest, with Blair’s icy cold hands trapped between them and his face tucked into Jim’s neck. Covering them both with the blankets until only the very tops of their heads showed, Jim began to rub Blair’s naked back, sides and arms as they shared body heat, only stopping when he himself was finally overtaken by exhaustion. And his last conscious thought was how right this felt, despite the dire circumstances.  



	10. Prompt - Huddle for warmth

**Chapter 10: Prompt – Huddle for warmth:**   


It was some time later when Jim finally resurfaced, carefully cataloguing both his physical condition and that of his unexpected bedmate. Although hardly overheated, he was comfortably warm, and by the feel of it, so was Sandburg, much to Jim’s relief. However, the young man was still deeply asleep, so Jim decided to take the opportunity to simply lie there and relax for a little longer before making a move. He supposed that it was quite late in the day, despite the persistent murkiness outside, because they had walked through the better part of the night, probably arriving at the cabin in the wee small hours of the early morning. A swift glance at his watch, which had survived their dive off the train, confirmed his guess, and he quickly tucked his arm back under the covers. 

He began by tentatively exploring the range of his senses, surprised but greatly relieved to find that they were humming along nicely, and that if he was careful, he could extend each one in turn without painful repercussions. He still had no idea why his control remained steady, but a persistent inner voice whispered that it had something to do with the young man presently in his arms. 

However, he swiftly shut down that fanciful train of thought, and concentrated instead on exploring his surroundings from the comfort of the cosy nest of Blair-rug and coarse blankets. And wasn’t that a surprise in itself? Going by his recent tactile sensitivity, he would have expected to be suffering from itching and hives at the very least, but for now, there was nothing of the sort. He wasn’t complaining, though, and turned his attention to hearing. 

Extending his auditory capacity as far as he dared, he listened for anything that might threaten their temporary sanctuary. To his profound satisfaction, he heard nothing but the almost silent patter of falling snowflakes and the distant sounds of small creatures moving over and through the white landscape, with no sound at all related to human activity. At least it was safe to assume that they were in no immediate danger from pursuers yet, so he pulled back his hearing, only to lock on to a gentle, soothing thrumming much closer to him. 

Puzzled for a moment, he frowned at the sound, before suddenly realising that it was Blair’s heart he could hear. How in the hell could he do that? And why did it comfort him so much? 

Switching abruptly to sight, he contemplated the curly head tucked beneath his chin, finding that even in the dim light of the cabin he could make out individual strands of colour in the tangled, dark auburn mane. So many, and so beautiful, surely there were even more to discover in sunlight, and Jim was drawn to run gentle fingers over the silky locks. Even in their dirty and faintly greasy condition, the curls felt so good to his sensitive touch, and he fantasised for a moment on the thought of washing them with Blair’s willing permission. In his mind’s eye he could see them together in his shower, the perfect, compact body his to explore and lovingly soap up while a smiling Blair reciprocated in kind. 

_And that’s quite enough of that, my son!_ he thought, scolding himself for letting his imagination run away like that. He barely knew the young man, despite their present compromising position, and this was no time to be exploring his fantasy life. His priority had to be to get them both to safety, and after that, return to work. Sandburg had his own life to lead, and Jim couldn’t see an academic fitting into a cop’s world, much as he might like it. 

Almost on cue, there was a soft moan from the vicinity of his chest, and he glanced down to see two bleary blue eyes peeking up at him from beneath the covers. 

“Oh, man,” Blair murmured hoarsely, “I’m guessing you did this, Jim. Thanks, man. I don’t think I would have lasted much longer without your help.” 

“That’s OK, Chief. It was to both our benefit, so no problem. Sharing body heat was the only way to go in the condition we were in. But while I think about it, can you tell me why you didn’t mention something as useful as your Swiss army knife as soon as we were off the train? It would have been a hell of a lot easier to travel without being shackled together like that.” 

To his surprise, Blair blushed a deep red from neck to hairline, his eyes glancing sheepishly aside as he sought the right words to best explain his decision. Finally he decided that in these circumstances honesty was the only way to go. He owed Jim his life, and it wouldn’t be right to tap dance around the truth as he was tempted to do. Swallowing hard, he looked up to meet Jim’s quizzical gaze and bit the bullet. 

“I’m really sorry, man,” he began diffidently. “I mean, yes, at first I was too distracted to think of it. Jumping out of a moving train after everything I’d seen really shook me up, you know? But then, once we were moving, I was scared, man. I didn’t know if we were being followed, and I knew I couldn’t survive on my own. I thought…um…that if we weren’t chained together, you might leave me behind. I mean, why would you want to burden yourself with a skinny, Jewish nerd like me? So I figured I’d be better off with you, especially as you seem to be so experienced and capable. I mean, you look like an all-action hero to me! 

“I’m sorry, man. Truly,” and he looked away again, not wanting to see the anger and disgust he was sure would be apparent in Jim’s ice blue eyes. 

It was true that Jim’s first instinct was to bridle in affront at the thought that the kid didn’t trust him, but a moment afterwards, he forced himself to look at the situation from Blair’s point of view. The young man was an innocent caught up in a difficult and dangerous situation about which he still was basically uninformed, and he had no reason to believe that Jim was an ethical and honest man even if he had admitted to being a cop. In a similar situation, plenty of people would be busy taking care of number one, and to hell with under-dressed, bewildered hangers-on. It was a sobering thought, and Jim found that he couldn’t blame Sandburg for his concern. Cupping a hand against Blair’s cheek, he urged the smaller man to meet his eyes again. 

“It’s OK, Sandburg. I understand, even if I feel a bit miffed. For the record, I wouldn’t have left you, but you weren’t to know that. And believe me; I am grateful that you insisted on hanging on to that backpack. And I’m hoping that there’ll be a few more useful things inside, huh?” 

Hugely relieved that Jim didn’t seem to be mad at him after all, Blair offered him a somewhat timid smile as he replied, “Thanks, Jim. For being so understanding. And yes, I do carry a lot of stuff with me. I sort of got into the habit as a kid, and never grew out of it.” 

Jim looked a bit puzzled at that, but didn’t press for details. Blair assumed that his nomadic childhood wouldn’t be of interest to the big cop, so he didn’t elaborate. 

Glancing over to where the object in question still lay on the floor close to the broken door, Jim nodded grimly as he contemplated leaving his cosy nest to retrieve it. Grinning ruefully at Blair, he said, “OK, Chief, I guess I need to take a look, so let me have one of those blankets for a minute, OK? But keep covered up. Once we’ve taken stock of the situation, I want to see if we can get that old stove fired up. I’d like to get our clothes dried out some at least before we think about starting out again. I need to get somewhere where I can contact my boss so he can arrange to have us picked up.” 

Quickly wrapping one of the blankets around his shoulders, Jim climbed out of the bunk, wincing as his bare feet hit the icy cold, rough plank floor. He crossed over to the pack in a couple of strides, grabbing it and hurrying back to the bunk to huddle next to Blair again. Tucked up together, they inspected its contents, Jim smiling in satisfaction as they were revealed. If he had to be stuck here in the middle of nowhere with a virtual stranger, he was gratified to find that at least said stranger appeared to be so well organised and prepared. And the fact that he was so attractive didn’t hurt either.  



	11. Prompt - Snowed in

**Chapter 11: Prompt – Snowed in:**   


Looking at the contents of Blair’s pack spread out on the bunk before them, Jim was struck anew by the sheer amount of gear the young man managed to stow away in such a relatively small pack. Apart from an elderly laptop and a couple of anthropology textbooks, plus a notebook and pens, Blair had a change of underwear and basic toiletries. He also had matches, a small First Aid kit, energy bars, bottled water and a few loose herbal teabags. His wallet and cell phone were also tucked away safely, along with his travel documentation. It was hardly surprising that he hadn’t wanted to leave it behind. 

“You know, Chief, this is a pretty impressive haul. But seeing as a coast to coast rail trip takes several days, I’m guessing that you had another bag, huh?” 

Blair’s face fell as he replied. “Yeah, Jim. I had another duffel with more clothes in. It’s probably still in the overhead storage space. Don’t suppose I’ll see it again,” he murmured despondently. His warm hat, gloves and scarf were there too, and he really could do with them right now. 

Jim offered him a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry about that, Chief. I mean, once we’re out of here, I’m sure you’ll be able to track it through Lost Property eventually, but we’ll just have to make do for a day or so. The wind’s rising again, and I’ve got a feeling that the snowfall might turn into a blizzard for a while. If it drifts too much, we’ll be stuck here, snowed in. So I’m going to try and get that old stove going if I can. There’s enough wood stacked beside it to feed it for a while, and we need to dry our clothes out.” 

Blair nodded in assent, but then blushed again. “Uh, there’s another thing, though, Jim. I mean, my bladder’s really nagging at me right now. Uh, what are we going to do about going? No way do I want to go outside to find a tree!” 

Jim grinned wickedly. “It’s OK, kiddo. I think there’s something we can use under the bunk,” and he reached beneath them and pulled out an old-fashioned chamber pot with a lid. “There you go, buddy. But I think you might want to take it over to the far corner!” 

Blair chuckled ruefully as he eyed the pot. “Guess it’ll have to do, then. I just hope nothing important freezes off while I’m at it.” 

Appreciating the young man’s attempt at wry humour, Jim grinned in response, only for his expression to change to a frown when he saw the flinch and pained grimace when Blair went to grip the blanket more firmly around him in preparation for moving. Quickly reaching out, he gently grasped Blair’s left arm and pulled it from beneath the blanket. 

“Shit, Chief,” he muttered, surveying the damage. “Did this happen when we jumped? And you never said anything?” 

Blair’s wrist was black with bruising, and badly swollen. Jim would have expected a certain amount of chafing from the cuffs, because he had some of that too on his right wrist, but this was far worse. It looked badly sprained at least, and more likely broken, and Jim could have kicked himself for not noticing it earlier when he released them both from the cuffs. But Blair surprised him again with his perspicacity. 

“It’s not your fault, Jim. I mean, yes, I did hurt it when we fell down that embankment, but I got cold so quickly that I couldn’t really feel it after a while. And it’s hardly surprising you never noticed it before. We were both exhausted, and it wouldn’t have looked that bad then anyway. It’s just stiffened up while I slept and the bruising’s come out.” 

Jim looked at him appraisingly, impressed by the smaller man’s honest and open expression. 

“If you say so, kiddo,” he said gently. “But as soon as you’ve taken care of business, I’ll take a look at it for you. I did medical training in the military, and at least I can dress it properly for you.” 

So saying, he wrapped his own blanket tightly around himself and trotted quickly across the cabin with the chamber pot in hand. Blair slid off the bunk and followed suit, teeth already starting to chatter again as he did the necessary, pushing his boxers aside one-handed and holding his penis steady as he let go with a sigh of relief. “Oh, man! Did I need that!” he chuckled, trotting quickly back to the bunk where he tucked his feet under him again. 

“You and me both,” Jim replied sardonically, having relieved himself also. “Now, let’s have a look at that wrist. Good job you’ve got that First Aid kit, Chief.” 

Gently probing the bruised area with sensitive fingers, Jim surmised that there were probably a couple of small broken bones, so he cleaned the chafed areas as best he could with a small amount of bottled water, applying antiseptic cream before wrapping the wrist in a support bandage. Blair remained stoic throughout, although it was obvious that he was in real pain, so Jim insisted he take a couple of aspirin. 

“OK, Chief. You stay here and try and keep warm, and I’m going to have a go at that stove. And I’ll try not to waste your matches!” he added, in an attempt at humour. 

Blair offered him a grateful, if pained grin, and he set about his chosen task, using a few crumpled pages from Blair’s notebook and the logs already stacked beside the ancient wood burner. He soon managed to get a fire going, and the effect on both men was immediate. The warmth was both physical and psychological, as it brought with it hope that they might survive this situation after all, even if they had refrained from voicing their fears beforehand. 

Since the wood supply wasn’t infinite, they were careful to eke it out as much as possible, but were still able to get reasonably comfortable. Jim pulled the mattress off the bunk and placed it close to the stove, and they huddled together under the blankets while their clothes steamed close by where they were draped over the chairs. As Jim had feared, the snow was still falling, and drifting up against the door, so it was going to be a case of digging themselves out once the storm had passed. 

They ate a couple of the energy bars, and Jim boiled enough water in an old pan to make mugs of herbal tea, and with that inside them, they felt a whole lot better. The physical closeness induced a feeling of companionship in both men, so it wasn’t surprising that they soon went beyond the stage of generalities and necessary communication and began to open up to each other a little more. And that was when Jim learned something that was very much to his advantage, even if he had trouble actually taking it on board at the time.  



	12. Prompt - Questions

**Chapter 12: Prompt – Questions:**   


As the day wore on and their clothes slowly dried, both men were able to get dressed again, Blair having already donned his spare layer of clean underwear. However, they still kept close together under the additional layers of blankets, unwilling to get chilled again before the wood finally ran out. Although the blizzard was gradually diminishing, there was no way they would be able to even consider trying to dig their way out until the following morning. As there was no cell phone signal in the cabin, Jim knew they’d have to leave their temporary refuge in order to call for help, but he hoped that Simon would already have set the wheels in motion for getting up a search party around the area where they had jumped off the train. However, there was no way any such party would have been able to set out in blizzard conditions, so Sunday would be the earliest they could expect to encounter any assistance. And there was always the possibility that Oliver would send out some of his own men to make sure that Jim and Blair hadn’t survived their ordeal. 

Both men were well aware that if they hadn’t managed to get to the cabin, they would undoubtedly have frozen to death in the white wilderness outside. But the fact that Jim had been able to see it even in those terrible conditions continued to intrigue Blair, and eventually he knew he’d have to broach the subject of Jim’s acute vision and hearing to satisfy his own curiosity. He was also becoming increasingly aware of a growing fascination with the big cop that was far more than simple sexual attraction, although for sure that was there in spades. It wasn’t just hero worship either. There was just something so compelling about Jim that Blair wanted to find out as much as he could about him. And he didn’t even try to kid himself that the possibility of Jim having more than two heightened senses didn’t excite him. Despite what he had told Eli, he still wanted to write his dissertation on the subject of modern sentinels if he could actually find one, and the very idea that Jim might be such a one was beyond enticing. But then again, the last thing he wanted to do was embarrass or alienate his saviour and possible potential subject, so he knew he would have to be as tactful as he could when questioning Jim, and that wasn’t going to be easy, given his normal outspoken and hyper enthusiastic personality. 

His opportunity arose in a roundabout way, when during their conversation Jim asked him about his studies at Rainier. Blair got the impression that the older man was just being polite, for want of a more interesting topic, but he seized the moment with both hands. 

“Well, you already know that I’m a grad student, and that my subject is anthropology, but I’ve been ABD for a while now. That’s ‘All But Dissertation’, man, and I so want to get it finished. The trouble is, I’m finding it really hard to find a subject to write about.” 

As he hoped, Jim followed his lead, and dutifully asked about his chosen topic. “So what is it you’re trying to find, Chief? I mean, I get that anthropology is the study of cultures and social structures, and you’ve been on expeditions to study various pre-industrialised tribes and such, so why the problem? Surely you have enough material to work with.” 

“Because there’s a particular type of individual I want to find, Jim. Or rather, a modern counterpart. See, when I first decided to study anthropology, I was fascinated by an old monograph I found, written by Sir Richard Burton – the English Victorian explorer that is, not the actor. It’s called ‘The Sentinels of Paraguay’, and it’s all about tribal watchmen. See, these guys were really important to their tribes, and held in great esteem, because they had incredibly heightened senses, Jim. They were protectors, hunters, organic weather predictors, you name it, they did it. Imagine being able to do all that for your tribe, man. What an honour! And I guess sometimes the tribe’s very survival depended on such skills. 

“There was a down-side though, according to Burton. Sometimes these guys could get so lost in the input from one sense that they went into a sort of fugue state, that Burton called ‘zone-outs’, which would leave them vulnerable to attack. And because of that, they had a companion to watch their backs and keep them grounded to make sure that didn’t happen. Or if it did, they knew what to do to bring the sentinel out of it. 

“Thing is, although I found loads of individuals with one or two heightened senses, like perfumers or wine tasters, virtuoso musicians and such, I’ve never found a subject with all five. The real deal. So I was beginning to think that perhaps they no longer manifested in modern societies because technology has become so advanced that they were no longer needed. And that would be such a shame, man. Because it’s a completely natural genetic variation, man. It’s not like they’d be freaks of nature. Just incredibly talented individuals with such a lot to offer society.” 

During his recitation, Jim had grown noticeably more tense and serious, and Blair began to wonder if he’d overdone the ‘sales pitch’ tone in his explanation. Worried that he might have upset Jim after all, he murmured nervously, “Are you OK, man? Have I said something wrong?” 

Jim seemed to shake himself, then met Blair’s anxious gaze, his eyes burning with barely-controlled rage. “Why don’t you come out and say what you really want to know, Chief? Like, how many of my senses are heightened? That’s what you’re leading up to, isn’t it? You think I could be one of these sentinels, don’t you? Some sort of throwback to primitive man. Well, it’s all five, Chief, and I don’t consider it a ‘genetic advantage’, kiddo. It’s a pain in the ass, and it’s made my life a misery!” 

The shock and hurt on Blair’s face at his furious outburst gave him a moment of grim satisfaction before his better nature resurfaced. The kid was only trying to help, or so it seemed, and if he really did know what he was talking about, he could be the only one so far who actually understood what Jim was going through. And if what he described was true, perhaps he also had some ideas and advice to offer about controlling them, or, better still, shutting the damned senses off altogether. 

Sighing deeply, Jim looked into the wide, reproachful eyes studying him, feeling guilty now at the pain his dramatic reaction had put there. “Look, Chief, don’t get me wrong, but whatever you choose to call this senses business, I could really do without it. I don’t know whether it’s genetic or not, but it’s a recent thing for me, and it’s been absolute bloody hell to live with. If I’ve ever been hypersensitive before, I can’t remember it. Well, not clearly anyway. But it’s sure as hell no fun hearing someone fart out in the street two blocks away, or have my skin hurt so much that I’ve scratched myself raw. And let’s not go into sight and smell!” 

Blair was no longer looking reproachful and hurt, but instead a thoughtful expression overtook his mobile and attractive features. “I’m really sorry if I’ve offended you, Jim, but I honestly do think you are a sentinel. But you seem to be able to use your senses so easily that I imagined that you’ve lived with them all your life. I mean, how else would you be able to control them so well?” 

Jim snorted in wry self-deprecation at that. “Control, Chief? I haven’t been able to control them worth shit – except for the last couple of days, that is. It’s gotten so bad that I’m going to be handing in my badge as soon as this mess is done with.” 

Now Blair was looking even more puzzled. “So, when did you come online, so to speak? How recently, and what were you doing?” 

“It was during a solo stakeout, Chief. I was investigating a serial bomber, and I nearly blew it because I couldn’t understand what was going on with me. All the doctors reckoned I was either some kind of hypochondriac, or suffering from PTSD.” 

“Hmm, that figures, Jim,” Blair murmured in reply. “I mean, from my studies of tribal sentinels, I learned that they go off alone into the jungle in order to stimulate their senses. A solo stakeout would have worked like that for you. But what I don’t get is how you’ve suddenly started to control them as well as you do. You don’t seem distressed to me.” 

Jim offered him a crooked grin at that. “I have my own theory about that, Sandburg. Just now occurred to me, in fact. My senses calmed down as soon as I saw you, kiddo, so what do you say to that?” 

Blair’s expression changed in quick succession from astonished, through doubt and disbelief to shy pleasure. “Oh, man, if that were really true, I’d be one happy grad student! I mean, I’m pretty sure it’s just a coincidence, because I’m nothing special, but it would be so cool if I was suitable as a companion. _Your_ companion,” he added bashfully. 

“But even if I’m not the one for you, I can help you learn to control your senses, Jim. After all, it’s only like taking up a new sport or something. You just need to practice, is all. And I can help you do that. If you want me to…” he tailed off nervously, suddenly afraid that Jim would laugh in his face. 

However, Jim had no intention of doing that. Not yet, anyway. It seemed to him that this kid was probably the only available expert on so-called sentinels, and he’d be a fool to himself if he didn’t avail himself of the offered assistance. 

There was one thing he had to be clear about, though, right at the outset. 

“OK, Chief, say I do agree to work with you. What would you get out of it?” 

Blair looked pensive again, gnawing his lower lip in unconscious appeal. “I was going to say that I’d like to write about you, Jim. After all, you’re the subject I’ve been searching for for years now. But I don’t think it could be done, not and keep your anonymity intact. I mean, the phenomenon might be completely understood and acceptable in pre-industrialised tribes, but modern society is way too cynical and disbelieving. A cop with super senses would be hounded by thrill seekers and the tabloid media out for a cheap story, and if the bad guys learned how to use your senses against you, you could be in grave danger. 

“But it would be wrong not to use your senses for the good of the tribe, Jim. You could be a walking, organic crime lab! A super sleuth! You just have to keep a low profile and use them on the down low.” 

“That’s all well and good, Chief, but again, what about you? You’ve made it very clear that achieving a doctorate is dear to you. So if you can’t write about me, how would you do that?” 

Suddenly, Blair’s face cleared, and his answering smile was like the sun coming out. “I get the best of both worlds, Jim, if you’ll allow me to help you. I’ll get the satisfaction of working with my dream sentinel, and I’ll write my alternative dissertation instead. I was going to tell Eli, my mentor, that I’d change my topic to a study of closed societies, specifically the Police Department. If you could get me a ride-along pass, I could work alongside you, and gather information for my paper while I’m doing it! Perfect, no?” 

Jim grinned ruefully, shaking his head in wry appreciation. “That’s some proposition, Chief. It’s certainly something to think about, I guess. But let’s get out of this sticky situation first, OK? And after that, I promise I’ll consider it.” 

Blair nodded eagerly, plainly entranced by his own idea, but Jim wasn’t quite so convinced it was doable. Or even appropriate for him. He had never worked with a partner, except for the one he was ordered to accompany when he first joined Major Crimes. And when Jack Prendergast disappeared, apparently having murdered a kidnap victim and stolen the ransom money, Jim had refused to work with another except under exceptional circumstances. Not that he had ever believed that Jack was guilty, far from it. But he preferred to work alone, and up until his senses had kicked in, his success rate ensured that Simon had never pressured him to take a partner again. 

But for now he decided not to burst Sandburg’s bubble. The kid was looking happier than Jim had yet seen him, and he wasn’t to know that his apparent acceptance of Blair’s suggestion had served to temporarily take the young man’s mind off Naomi and her devastating illness, and the danger they were both still facing. 

It never occurred to him that by denying Sandburg further down the line he would cause the grad student intense pain and disappointment, simply because Jim couldn’t envisage himself as being worthy of such adoration and hero worship. 

How wrong he was on both counts.  



	13. Prompt - Love and Guns

**Chapter 13: Prompt - Love and Guns:**   


Sunday morning dawned bright and clear, the snowstorm having blown itself out during the night. Both men were relatively warm, having slept huddled together again, this time virtually fully dressed. The stove had finally burned out at some point during the early evening, so that the air outside of their cosy cocoon was crisp and cold and their breath was easily visible. They were hungry, having finished the last of Blair’s emergency rations, but Jim agreed that even a couple of energy bars each had been a great bonus. However, it was vital that they got out today now that the snow had finally stopped, and Blair wasn’t arguing with that. His Florida trip had already been delayed too much, and although he still hadn’t opened up to Jim about the real reason for his urgent need to get on his way again, he knew that his new friend was aware of his concern. 

Poking his nose out from beneath the blankets, he almost whined, “Brrrr! It’s frickin’ freezing out there! Who’s going to make the first move?” 

Jim chuckled at the young man’s tone, saying, “Guess that should be you, Chief. After all, I’ve a feeling you need to relieve yourself fairly urgently, huh?” 

Blushing fiercely, Blair grumbled half-jokingly, “Knew those senses must be good for something, man. Every bodily function known to man out there for your amusement!” 

“Hey, it does have its drawbacks, Chief,” Jim retorted. “There are plenty of reasons for _not_ wanting to share.” 

Blair grinned ruefully up at him at that. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, Jim. I mean, I must be pretty ripe by now. And that chamber pot isn’t exactly a bouquet of flowers either.” 

“Ah, but at least you’ve given me the means to minimise the effects, Chief, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am for that!” 

Blair smiled bashfully, warmed by the honest praise. The previous evening he had had a brainwave while the pair discussed how Jim could maintain control over his senses. He had suggested that Jim imagine an old-fashioned radio with a dial assigned to each sense. By turning them up and down, he could find and hold them at a comfortable level until needed. At first Jim had looked askance at him, the scepticism clear in his expression, but he had tried it out nevertheless, and to his astonishment and gratification, he found that it actually worked. Of course, he would need to keep practicing until it became second nature, but it was such a great relief that he was hard put not to hug the stuffing out of his smart new friend. 

However, nature was calling, and they needed to make a move anyway, so Blair slid out from their shared nest and trotted quickly over to the hated chamber pot. By the time he had relieved himself, Jim was also up and about, gathering up their few belongings, and handing Blair the last of the bottled water. 

“Here you go, Chief. Breakfast is served!” he joked as Blair shot him a dirty look. “All being well, by tonight we should be in a warm bed somewhere, after enjoying a hot meal, so shake a leg!” 

Shortly afterwards, the pair were as ready as they could be, and prepared to open the broken door to survey their surroundings in the cold light of day. Blair had pulled his spare socks over his hands like fingerless mitts, and had fashioned a cloak and hood of sorts out of one of the blankets. Jim had chuckled at the sight, but had done a similar one for himself, minus the sock mitts, that was, and was ready to tackle the drift he knew was waiting for them outside their front door. Blair was going to carry the backpack while Jim dug, since his broken wrist wouldn’t allow him to dig also. 

As Jim yanked the door open, a wide-eyed Blair murmured, “Wow! That’s something else, man!” 

Sure enough, the drift was shoulder height, and was banked up along the whole front of the cabin. However, Jim simply shrugged stoically, and breaking off one of the planks from the door, began to clear a path for them. In actual fact, he relished the physical activity, because being trapped in the cabin virtually immobile for so many hours had been hard for someone who placed great value on a good workout. 

In a relatively short time, Jim had cleared enough of a path for them to get out into the open, and they paused to survey the winter wonderland spread out before them. “Man! I don’t think I’ve seen conditions like this outside of Alaska!” Blair whispered almost reverently. “Which direction should we set off in, Jim? I can’t make out any features or landmarks under this depth of snow.” 

Jim grinned smugly as he pointed off to the right. “Then it’s a good job I can, Chief. And I can hear distant voices too. I think we just may be about to meet up with a rescue party, so let’s get moving.” 

They set off across the white landscape, with Jim in the lead, forging a path through the drifts. It was heavy going in places, but neither man complained. Blair kept his injured arm pressed tightly across his chest for protection, and plodded doggedly in Jim’s footsteps, still carrying his precious backpack on his right shoulder. Eventually they had gone far enough for Jim to find a signal, and with a triumphant grin, he speed dialled Simon on his cell phone. 

“Hey, Simon!” he began, the second his boss picked up, without even giving the man a chance to identify himself. “Guess who?” 

“Jim! God be praised! You’re alive!” came the enthusiastic response. “How are you, man? And _where_ are you?” 

“Not so very far from where we had to jump off the train, sir. The snow was so bad we had to take shelter in an abandoned cabin, but we’re both OK. That is, Blair has a broken wrist, but otherwise we’re fine.” 

“Blair? Is he the kid you were cuffed to? When Oliver’s goon was found and arrested by the transport police, he said you’d jumped for it after pulling the emergency cord. Seemed pleased, because he said you’d never survive!” 

“Yes, sir. Blair Sandburg was the unlucky innocent who got shackled to me, but we’ve managed OK. Very resourceful, is Mr Sandburg!” and he winked at Blair, who was watching him raptly. 

“Anyhow, I can hear voices in the distance, so I’m hoping that it’s a rescue party, sir. Shouldn’t be too long until I can report back properly and give you all the sordid details,” and his expression hardened then. He wasn’t looking forward to reporting his failure to protect Sam, even if it wasn’t his fault. 

However, it seemed that Simon was more concerned about their welfare at that point rather than the failed assignment as he replied warmly, “You take care, Jim. Both of you! I called up the locals in the vicinity of the emergency stop, and they said they’d set out as soon as the storm blew over, so all being well you two’ll soon be warm and dry. I’ll look forward to hearing from you again soon.” 

With that, he terminated the call, and Jim pocketed his cell phone, a grim smile on his face. 

“OK then, Chief. At least my boss doesn’t seem too mad at me yet, so let’s make a move. I need a hot shower, coffee and a decent meal as soon as possible!” 

Blair’s answering smile was warm and eager as he agreed. “Oh, man! Hot coffee, and a chance to stand under hot water! And get rid of this!” he added, fingering his heavy beard stubble. “Lead on, McDuff!” and he chuckled as Jim offered him an ironic salute before turning around and moving off again, the thought of being warm and well-fed spurring him on. 

They hadn’t gone too much further when Jim suddenly held up his hand, stopping in his tracks as he cocked his head to one side in a listening pose. Putting a finger to his lips to halt any verbal query from Blair, he leaned down to whisper in the younger man’s ear. “Sssh, Chief. I think there’s more than one lot of people out there. I can still hear the rescue party talking amongst themselves, but I can also hear footsteps coming towards us from the opposite direction, and a good deal closer. Be ready to act when I say, and don’t question, OK?” It was imperative that his new friend obey him instantly, because he had a really bad feeling about the situation. And by the thoughtful and anxious frown on Blair’s face, it seemed as if the other man had come to the same conclusion as him. Perhaps Oliver had indeed sent out some of his goons to make certain Jim and Blair never got to testify against Ortiz and his henchmen after all. 

At present, they were making their way down a sort of gulley in the snow-covered landscape where the wind had created high drifts on either side of them. Jim had chosen the route with relief, having fought his way through several deep drifts already, and needing an easier path for a while which still led more or less in the right general direction to meet up with the search party. However, he was cursing his decision now, because he had no clear field of vision without climbing up to the top of the drifts, and that would make him a prime target for an assassin’s bullet the moment he showed his face. All he could do was open his hearing as far as he dared in the hope that he would hear the goons, if goons they were, before they made their move. 

Suddenly he became aware of a gentle grasp on his bicep, and almost sub-vocal murmurings from Blair which calmed and grounded him, such that he felt confident enough to stretch out as far as he could. He thought incidentally that if this was what the sentinel’s companion was supposed to do, then Blair was the right choice for him, should he so want it. But that decision could wait until they were both safe and he had the time and leisure to think things through. 

However, when the attack came, although Jim might berate himself later for not being able to anticipate it, it was hardly his fault. Even with Blair’s help, he was so new to his reawakened senses that it was hardly surprising that he would be distracted by sounds from two sources, as yet being without the skill to satisfactorily distinguish between and separate the two. Thanks to a split second of indecision, he suddenly found himself confronted by a heavily armed thug, who literally dropped down in front of him from the top of the drifts. And even worse to his horrified eyes was the appearance of the second thug, who had landed behind Blair, catching the young man around the throat and yanking him backwards against his chest as he grinned evilly at Jim. 

“End of the road, asshole!” the second thug grated. “How do you want to do this, cop? Shall I break his neck first before Gentry here puts a bullet in your skull?” 

Jim’s gaze was hard and unflinching as he stared the other man down. Sure, he was terrified for Blair, and even a little worried on his own account, but he was equally determined not to let these two scumbags see his fear. 

“Whatever,” he murmured with a non-committal shrug. “Guess we’re going to die anyway, so you might as well get on with it!” 

However, he did have just the faintest plan of action in mind, and wanted Blair to realise that his words weren’t as heartless as they seemed. Meeting the younger man’s eyes, he tried his best to convey his care and concern, as well as his mute apology for his failure to keep them safe. 

And was completely awed at the understanding and determination apparent in the younger man’s beautiful blue gaze. Eyes that also contained another emotion, if Jim was reading it right. Love. Pure and simple love. 

Gods! What had he done to deserve such unconditional affection? 

Whatever it was, he held on to the thought with all his strength as he grinned lazily at his would-be nemesis, his hand already creeping slowly towards the captured gun sitting in his shoulder holster….  



	14. Prompt - Sweet Science

**Chapter 14: Prompt – Sweet Science:**   


To say that Blair was shocked at the sudden turn of events would be an understatement, but still he trusted Jim to get them out of this new predicament. Terrified, certainly, yet he tried his best to convey that trust, and also to offer his silent support and love. Because yes, he truly believed that what he felt for the big cop went way beyond gratitude for taking care of him, and was more than hero worship for the sentinel he’d been seeking for so long. And because of that nascent love, he was prepared to do whatever he could to protect Jim also. 

He had dropped his backpack when the thug had grabbed him from behind, and his left wrist was useless. But there was nothing wrong with his right hand, and even as he watched Jim surreptitiously edging for his captured handgun, he knew he’d have to act to distract the other goon to give Jim a chance to respond. Making a split-second decision, he raised his right leg and kicked backwards with all his might, catching his captor directly on the knee. Howling in pain, the man released his hold on Blair enough for the smaller man to tear himself free, and he aimed a perfect right hook at the thug’s unprotected face. The thug went down with a crash, spread-eagled on the snow with blood pouring from nose and mouth, and Blair immediately straddled him, punching him again until he was sure that the man was out for the count. Only then did he look behind him to see how Jim was faring, trusting that the big cop wouldn’t have wasted the opportunity to overcome his own threat. 

His trust wasn’t misplaced, because Jim had done just that. When Blair had made his unexpected move, Jim’s guard had shifted to take aim at Blair’s unprotected back, and that was all the chance Jim needed. Chopping down violently on the wrist holding the gun with the edge of his hand, Jim caused the man to drop the firearm, at the same time as driving his elbow into the man’s midriff. Gasping in agony as the air was driven from his lungs, the thug doubled up, which gave Jim the perfect opportunity to fell him with a rabbit punch to the back of his neck. Picking up the discarded gun, Jim held it at the ready, only to see that Blair had succeeded in taking down his captor too. 

Grinning widely, Jim studied the smaller man intently, proud of what he was witnessing. For sure, Blair was sitting in the snow, his hands beginning to shake in reaction as his adrenalin-fuelled energy burst waned, but the expression on his face was one of surprise tempered with amazement at his own achievement. 

“Oh, man! That was something else! You were amazing, Jim!” 

“Not just me, kiddo,” Jim replied smartly. “That was quick-thinking, Chief, and it made all the difference to the outcome. But how’s your hand? That was some right hook you delivered!” 

Blair grinned sheepishly, shaking the appendage in question. To be honest, it did hurt, but he could tell that it was only bruised, not broken, so he wasn’t going to complain. “It’ll be fine, Jim. Just a bit sore is all. No real damage done!” 

“Fair enough, Chief. So, let’s get these two cuffed together, shall we? See how they like it!” and with a satisfied smirk, he dragged the nearest thug over to the other by his collar, quickly cuffing them together just as he and Blair had been so recently. 

“Hey, man, works for me!” Blair chortled, pulling his backpack towards him so he could sit on it rather than in the snow. “So, is the rescue party close now?” 

Jim nodded cheerfully. “Yep, just a few minutes away. You did good, Chief. Real good!” 

Blair blushed at the praise, grateful for the approval. “Thanks, man. That’s good of you to say.” 

“De nada, Chief. It’s true! But I wouldn’t have had you pegged for a boxing fan. How come?” 

This time Blair laughed self-consciously. “Ah, just because I’m usually into peace and love, man, doesn’t mean to say I can’t enjoy the noble art of pugilism! It’s just that, some years ago, I happened to be in the right place at the right time to help out Sweet Roy Williams. You know, the boxer? Except that it was before he became famous, you know? Anyway, we became friends, and he gave me a few lessons is all.” 

He wasn’t going to tell Jim that boxing wasn’t the only thing in which Roy had given him lessons. Roy had been his first male lover, and although they weren’t together for long, they had parted on good terms, and Blair still recalled him with great fondness. 

As for Jim, he got the impression that there was much more to the story, but also felt that it wasn’t his place to push for more information. If Blair wanted to expand on his explanation, he would do so in due course. 

Five minutes later, the search party consisting of local law enforcement officers and Search and Rescue personnel appeared at the top of the gulley, and Jim and Blair knew that their ordeal was almost over. To be sure, there were plenty of loose ends to tie up; interrogations to conduct and explanations to offer; but for a few precious hours they would be able to enjoy the luxury of hot showers, good coffee and hot food, just as they had dreamed of. The real world could wait a little longer for them to catch up with it again, because the gods knew, they deserved a little down-time.  



	15. Prompt - First kiss

**Chapter 15: Prompt – First kiss:**   


Luckily for both men, they were able to use the Search and Rescue helicopter to be transported quickly to the nearest town, which happened to be Sacramento. Blair in particular was pretty much at the end of his tether, a combination of pain, hunger, stress and exhaustion finally draining him to the point of near collapse. Jim wasn’t as badly off, but he too was glad not to have to hike through any more snow. The abnormal weather conditions had wreaked havoc over a wide area, but at least it was finally coming to an end, so that with any luck Blair would be able to continue his journey once he had made his statement and rested up a little. 

However, that was even more cause for distress on the younger man’s part, because now he was back in relative safety, his concern for Naomi had come crashing down on him again, and he needed to get in touch with her as soon as possible to try and put her mind at rest. 

Sitting close to him in the helicopter, Jim couldn’t help but notice the younger man’s desperately worried expression, and felt compelled to ask him about it. 

“Hey, Chief, you OK? You look all in. Are you in a lot of pain?” 

Blair seemed to shake himself out of a mini stupor as he turned to offer Jim a rather sickly grin. “Uh, no, Jim. Not really. I guess everything’s just hit me all at once is all.” 

Having witnessed the young man’s resilience and quick-thinking over the past 36 or so trying hours, Jim somehow wasn’t convinced that was all there was to it, but wondered if, as with the Sweet Roy story, he had the right to push. Despite the ‘sentinel’ connection, they were still relative strangers, so instead he tried to distract his new friend, nodding towards the two goons, who were sitting opposite them under the watchful eyes of a couple of local lawmen. 

“The pilot told me when you were getting on board that he’d spotted another unidentified chopper heading away from the area as he came in to pick us up, so I’m guessing that was how Dumb and Dumber over there got dropped in to search for us. I’m also betting that Colonel Oliver was behind it, and I’d love to be able to carry out the interrogations on those two to find out for sure. But I’m equally certain that the FBI will be taking over from the locals, and from Cascade MCU. After all, there’s kidnapping charges to face, which is a federal crime, as well as murder and attempted murder; not to mention the involvement of at least two of their own; so they’ll be wanting to keep their dirty laundry to themselves, I’m thinking. I just wish I knew what had happened to Sam Holland though, although it probably isn’t anything good.” 

Blair did his level best to show an interest in Jim’s information, even though his mind was elsewhere, like in West Palm Beach. He genuinely did want to know how Jim was going to deal with the situation, and in all honesty, he hadn’t considered that the big cop wouldn’t be able to continue with the case. He reflected cynically that he obviously didn’t know enough about the interaction and cooperation or otherwise between the different types of law enforcement agencies in the US, and had no concept of the depth of animosity that frequently existed between police departments and the Feds. 

“Uh, so, who’ll be wanting to talk to me, Jim?” he asked anxiously. “I mean, I can’t provide anything useful other than what happened once I got grabbed in the train and got cuffed to you, man, so they won’t want to keep me indefinitely, will they? I really do have to get on with my trip to Florida, man.” 

Frowning at Blair’s obvious distress, Jim replied, “It’ll probably be the Feds, Chief, and no doubt they’ll want to interview me too, but I don’t see any reason why they should delay you longer than necessary. I can testify that you were just an innocent bystander inadvertently caught up in a dangerous situation after all, so you should be able to be on your way again by Tuesday at the latest.” 

Blair gazed out of the chopper’s window, for once too distracted to be troubled by his fear of heights as the helicopter sped over the snow-covered landscape. Gods, he hoped Jim was right. The first thing he intended to do once they landed was to call Naomi and explain about the delay, only of course he would put it down to the weather conditions rather than to his adventures. No need to worry her more than necessary after all. Then again, hopefully he could catch the train east to Denver, and fly from there if that airport hadn’t also been affected by snow, so he wouldn’t be too much later in arriving than he’d originally planned. He just hoped he could get the rail company to track his abandoned duffel and send it on to West Palm Beach for him. It would cost, but would be worth it, and he still had most of the money Naomi had wired him for the trip. 

Lost in his plans, he didn’t notice Jim’s thoughtful scrutiny of him. All he knew was that Naomi was his problem, and he had no intention of burdening Jim with his personal troubles.  


\-------------------------------  


A short while later the helicopter landed on the helipad at Sacramento’s Mercy Hospital so that Blair’s wrist could be treated, and the two goons also following their subduing at Jim and Blair’s hands. They might have deserved every bruise, but they still had to be checked out before questioning could begin. No need to give some over-priced defence lawyer an excuse to bang on about ‘police brutality’. 

The small party was met in the ER by three agents from the local FBI Field Office, who announced that they would be taking the prisoners into custody as soon as they had been treated. As far as Blair was concerned, the sooner they were far away from him the better, but he realised that Jim and the local cops weren’t happy about it, even if there was nothing they could do to prevent it. But it was what it was, and right then he needed coffee, even if it was the awful hospital variety, and he was more than grateful when Jim thrust a steaming Styrofoam cup into his good hand. It was undoubtedly every bit as bad as Jim said, but right then it was as the Nectar of the Gods, and Blair said as much. 

“Oh, man! Just what I needed, Jim. Thanks, man,” and he took a sip, relishing the bitter heat as it warmed him from the inside out. Jim simply grinned at him as he took a mouthful of his own drink, his lip curling in disgust until he remembered the dials and carefully turned down the one for taste. 

“Hey, Chief, that idea of yours works great!” he murmured, unwilling to let anyone nearby overhear. “I just dialled down taste, and what do you know? This stuff’s drinkable!” 

As he had hoped, the comment elicited a reluctant grin and snort of amusement from Blair. 

“Glad to be of service, Big Guy,” he whispered in reply. “Just keep practicing, and it’ll become second nature.” 

Just then, his name was called and he went into the cubicle indicated to have the doctor examine him. He had no intention of staying any longer than he could help, or agreeing to anything but the most basic treatment, because for sure his meagre insurance wouldn’t cover more than that, if indeed it even stretched that far. And since he had no reason to think that Jim would wait for him, he would have been truly surprised to see the big man settle himself in one of the generic plastic chairs in the waiting area, prepared to wait until he was sure that Sandburg was OK.  


\------------------------------------  


When a desperately weary Blair finally emerged from the cubicle, his wrist encased in a bright blue cast, and his arm supported in a sling, he shuffled slowly down the corridor, not even seeing Jim until the bigger man stood up in front of him, a sardonic grin on his face and a wrapped sandwich in his hand. 

“Hey, Chief. Thought you could do with a bite to eat. It’s been way too long, and I’m thinking that even this won’t spoil your appetite for a good steak.” 

Doing a classic double-take, Blair stared incredulously at Jim for a moment before replying. “Oh, man! I didn’t expect you to be still here, Jim! Why aren’t you relaxing in a hot shower somewhere?” 

“Perhaps because I wanted to make sure my temporary partner was being looked after first,” Jim answered with a grin. “The fibbies wanted us to go downtown to their office to make our statements a.s.a.p., but I told them no way. We deserve a bit of downtime before that sort of stress, and I think you need something in your stomach right now. It’s not much of a sandwich, but mine’s stayed down so far, so it can’t be that bad!” 

Blair laughed outright at that, and sat down beside Jim, a fond smile on his face. “That’s so thoughtful of you, man. My stomach thanks you, and I haven’t even tasted it yet!” With that, he ripped open the wrapper one-handed and took a bite out of the egg salad sandwich, his taste buds totally appreciating the mouthful. “’S good,” he murmured between bites. “Hits the spot!” 

“Glad to hear it, Chief. And while you’re eating, I’ll explain what’s been decided, OK? First off, I’ve talked to my boss Simon Banks, and he said that as soon as I’ve satisfied the feebs, I can either get a train back to Cascade, or hire a car if the roads have been cleared. But he also said that I should stay long enough to make sure you get away OK, and that’s fine by me. I’ve booked us in overnight at the Premier Inn near the rail station, so as soon as you’re done with the feebs also, you can get the next train east. Um, I took the liberty of booking us a twin room to save money, Chief, so I hope that’s OK with you? And don’t worry about sharing the cost. I’ve got it covered on my expenses.” 

Blair wasn’t sure what to say for long moments. As far as he was concerned, Jim had gone above and beyond for him, and he wasn’t used to such unconditional kindness. But on the other hand, he now felt obliged to ‘fess up at some point about the real reason why he needed to be on his way, just in case Jim thought he was being blown off. And that couldn’t have been further from the truth in Blair’s mind. So he smiled warmly at his saviour, and said the only thing he could. “Thanks, Jim, that’d be great! I hadn’t really thought that far ahead – just concentrating on getting through the next few hours before I have to leave. But if it’s OK with you, then it’s more than OK with me. After all,” he continued shyly, “It’s not like we’re not used to sharing space now!” 

Jim’s answering smile was wide and uncomplicated. “Great, Chief! So, as soon as you’re ready, we’ll go check in and have that hot shower we’ve been looking forward to. And once we’ve satisfied the fibbies, I’ll treat you to that dinner. 

“And after that, sleep! In a real bed!” 

And at that, Blair’s weary but still attractive features took on a dreamy expression. “Oh, man! A real bed….”  


\--------------------------------  


**Following morning:**  


Jim looked over at his temporary roommate as he packed his few belongings into a cheap holdall ready for his departure. His frown of concern deepened as he watched Blair move sluggishly from bathroom to bed, about to do the same with his backpack. Far from looking rested and refreshed, the young man looked drawn and care-worn, and Jim knew that at least part of that was due to what was waiting for him in Florida. But having said that, he still had no idea of the true nature of Blair’s mom’s illness, because even now the young man couldn’t bring himself to unload fully, not wanting to bother Jim with his private troubles. 

Watching Blair surreptitiously, since he didn’t want to embarrass his new friend, Jim thought back over the past few hours, ever since they’d left the hospital yesterday afternoon. 

They had taken a cab to the hotel, needing above all to get that hot shower and utilise the laundry. As soon as they were in their room, Jim insisted that Blair use the bathroom first, even though he would have loved to share the shower. However, Blair was plainly overwrought, having finally managed to contact Naomi during their cab ride, and although he didn’t go into detail, Jim could see that he was extremely shaken up by what he heard. However, he had simply reiterated that his mom wasn’t well, and that he needed to see her as soon as possible to put his mind at rest. It never occurred to Jim to try and eavesdrop, although thinking back, it might not have been such a bad thing on that occasion. 

On arrival at the hotel, Jim had told him that although he had said to the FBI agents that they would probably have to wait until morning for Jim and Blair’s statements, if Blair wanted to get away earlier, and was feeling up to it, they could get the official business over with once they had had a chance to clean up and rest a while, and that was what they decided to do. 

In their room, Jim had helped Blair wrap his new cast in plastic film to protect it, but had asked somewhat diffidently if Blair would like some help shaving and washing his abundant curls. It wasn’t in any way like the erotic fantasy Jim had been harbouring, because it wasn’t the right situation, but when Blair had shyly accepted, he had still enjoyed the feel of those silky locks between his fingers. However, he realised that it was way too much to expect Blair to actually share the shower, so he had discreetly retreated until the young man had finished. 

Once he had had his own customary five minute shower, the two men ordered a meal on room service while they waited for their newly washed clothes to finish drying in the hotel’s residents’ laundry. The meal had been tasty enough, but had been a pretty silent affair, with Blair lost again in his thoughts, although Jim wasn’t offended. Even without family worries, he could sympathise with Blair’s current state of mind after the trauma he’d just experienced. After all, how could a gentle academic be expected to shake off such an ordeal with equanimity? And that was enough to set him thinking again about how unfair it would be to involve Blair in a life like his. The life of a cop, who faced danger and death on an almost daily basis. It was certainly food for thought, and Jim was uncomfortably aware that he might well be being entirely selfish in expecting the grad student to help him with the senses, even though the idea was Blair’s to begin with. 

But decisions along those lines could wait until they had dealt with the Feds, and Blair had gotten his visit out of the way. That was what mattered right now, and that’s what Jim would help him to do. 

A little later that evening, they had taken another cab across town to the FBI Field Office, where they gave their respective statements. Of necessity, Jim’s was much more involved, and it took a while until he had answered the agent conducting the interview to the man’s satisfaction. Not that Jim could have cared less if his answers were satisfactory or not. As far as he was concerned, once again the feebs had botched the job, and no doubt would try and pin the blame on Cascade PD, and Jim in particular. 

On the other hand, Blair had made his statement calmly and matter-of-factly like the trouper he was, even though he was noticeably shaken in the aftermath. But nevertheless, once both men had been released to return to their hotel, Jim couldn’t help but compliment him on his performance. 

“Well done, Chief. You handled that really well, and now you should be able to relax a bit. They might contact you at a later date if there’s a case to answer, but frankly, I doubt it, so you’re in the clear to get down to see your mom. Are you getting tomorrow’s train to Denver as planned?” 

Blair had smiled weakly but affectionately. “Thanks, Jim. I have to say I was nearly peeing my pants at one stage; that guy was so intimidating; but I’m just glad to get it over with. And yes, I intend to get tomorrow’s train. According to the latest reports, Denver Airport is open as normal, so I’ll get as cheap a flight as I can to Fort Lauderdale. Won’t be there for Xmas Day, but no matter. As long as I get there, it’s all good.” 

“Fair enough, Chief. But I wouldn’t have thought you’d be celebrating Xmas anyway?” 

“Oh, I’m not a practicing Jew, man,” came the easy reply. “Naomi and me’d celebrate whatever and wherever we were at the time, Jim. Helped us to fit in, you know? I just like to take the bits I enjoy and sort of go with the flow, know what I mean? Doesn’t have to be any particular religion, and pagan’s good too.” 

Jim had nodded understandingly at that, because he believed he really did get where the young man was coming from. From the snippets of personal information Blair had let slip, he surmised that the kid’s nomadic childhood hadn’t been quite the perfection he made out, and the need to try and fit in would have been pressing. There must have been many times when he was lonely and afraid, if not actively in danger, but now wasn’t the time to be questioning his mother’s lifestyle, because he was plainly worried about her. 

“So, anyway, I’m for an early night, Chief. You too, I suspect. I’ll probably be leaving before you in the morning, but we can grab some breakfast first.” He wasn’t surprised when Blair nodded tiredly. 

“Bed sounds great, man, can’t wait!” the younger man replied, already stripping off down to his underwear. “You want the bathroom first?” 

“Nah, you go ahead, Chief. I can wait.” 

By the time Jim had finished his own ablutions, Blair was in bed and sound asleep, and Jim had grinned in relief. 

But it hadn’t been as restful a night as either of them would have liked after all, and Jim frowned again as he recalled the reason. 

Jim had fallen asleep quickly himself, but had been deeply under for maybe a couple of hours at most before muttering and thrashing from the other bed awakened him. Blair was having a nightmare, and it looked like a doozy. Pushing himself up and out of his own bed, Jim crossed to the other bed, wondering if he should try and wake the younger man. He was worried in case the shock of being shaken awake would be worse than letting Blair come out of it on his own, but as he watched, the smaller man seemed to grow even more agitated. So Jim went with his instinct and climbed into the small bed next to Blair, wrapping his arms around the shaking body and pulling him snugly against his chest. Within minutes Blair’s mutterings and movements ceased, and he relaxed into Jim’s embrace, where he remained for the rest of the night. And he wasn’t the only one who slept well in that position, because Jim enjoyed the proximity too. His only complaint was that they couldn’t have had several more hours in which to make up their sleep deficit. 

From Blair’s point of view, he couldn’t have been more grateful to Jim if he tried, recalling the feeling of security and protection he had experienced on waking in Jim’s arms. Just as in the cabin, he had realised that it was the sense of being cherished and loved for which he had unconsciously been seeking for all his young life. However, he still had to face up to the main source of his awful nightmare, which had been an amalgamation of images of leering thugs desperate for the opportunity to maim and kill him in the worst possible ways, and of Naomi’s still, pale face, peaceful in death. For sure, Jim’s tenderness had served to banish the dreadful scenes, allowing him to sleep undisturbed for the remainder of the night, but the new day brought with it renewed responsibilities which he couldn’t avoid even if he wanted to, and he had to do it alone. 

Although he would never have admitted it to Jim, the phone call he had made the previous day had shaken him to his core, and he was actually surprised that he had managed to hold it together long enough to give his statement, let alone get through the rest of the evening. The man who had answered him was Don Vasquez, with whose family Naomi had been staying for several months now. Old family friends from her earliest hippy days, he and his partner now ran a sort of up-market hospice-cum-retreat, and they had been only too glad to offer her a place there. Blair knew she would have been as happy as possible there, surrounded by her friends, but still resented the fact that she had kept the nature of her illness from him for so long. But now there was no escaping, as he had learned yesterday. 

Don had told him in no uncertain terms that Naomi was fading fast, and was only holding on so she could see her beloved son one more time. Although he sympathised with Blair’s predicament, he insisted that the young man do his utmost to arrive on time, knowing that Blair would never forgive himself if he failed to see his mother alive once more to say his goodbyes. He had almost broken down there and then, and still didn’t know how he wasn’t lying on his bed bawling like a baby. 

But he had always been made of sterner stuff than he would have ever perceived of himself, and there was no way he’d impose on Jim and his kindness any more than he had already. It was up to him to see this through, and the only thing that kept him going was the thought that Jim would be there in Cascade waiting for him on his return. Jim was his touchstone, and he desperately wanted to be worthy of him. 

Looking up from his packing, he saw Jim standing before him, a kind but somewhat concerned expression on his sculpted features. Swallowing hard as the big man reached out to place gentle hands on his shoulders, he tried to offer a reassuring smile, even though he was well aware that it fell well short of its purpose. 

“Uh, hey, Jim. Um, I wanted to thank you again for last night, man. And for everything you’ve done for me over the past couple of days. I guess it’s time for you to set off back, huh?” 

“Yeah, I should be getting on my way, Chief. But I just wanted to make sure you were OK before I left. You are going to be OK, aren’t you?” 

Blair nodded, biting his lower lip nervously as he met Jim’s steady gaze. “I’ll be fine, Jim. As soon as I’ve checked in with Naomi, and the festivities are done with, I’ll be back. And we can start working together on your senses, if that’s what you still want?” 

Looking down into the wide blue eyes, there was no way Jim was going to deny him there and then. Pulling the smaller man towards him, he dropped a kiss on the wide brow before pushing him away again slightly so he could read Blair’s emotions. And the mobile features conveyed so much, it took his breath away. Deep sadness, for sure. A bone-deep weariness that Jim supposed that only the successful completion of his trip would erase. But there was also trust, love and concern for Jim, and he wondered briefly how he could possibly deserve such affection. 

He didn’t know what spurred him to act, but suddenly there was only one thing he wanted to do, so he did it. Carefully lowering his head, he brushed his lips over Blair’s lush ones in the most chaste of kisses; no more than a gentle brush of soft skin against soft skin. But it was instantly addictive, and it suddenly occurred to him that he had now imprinted the young man with a full set of senses. Sight, hearing, touch, smell and now taste had been satisfied, and the experience was amazing. 

Blair’s expression was equally amazed, and he couldn’t have prevented the sheen of moisture that sprang to his eyes if he’d tried. His love and gratitude for Jim was there for the other man to see in his lambent gaze, and Jim felt a surge of affection even as a lump of emotion rose in his throat. 

However, this was no time to indulge in further gestures, and they both knew it. There would be a time and a place for them, but right now, in this cheap hotel room wasn’t it. Pulling apart with slightly sheepish grins, they grabbed their packs and left the room together, Jim’s arm supportively wrapped around Blair’s shoulders until they arrived at the front desk to check out. 

Duty called for both of them, and they couldn’t ignore it any longer.  



	16. Prompt - Dead Drop

**Chapter 16: Prompt – Dead Drop:**   


It was a truly frazzled and bedraggled Blair who deplaned at Fort Lauderdale the day after Xmas. He had spent nearly 48 hours travelling since leaving Jim in Sacramento, and had suffered through each interminable hour fearing the worst – that Naomi would die before he could reach her. In truth, his journey could have been even more protracted had Don Vasquez not taken it upon himself to do some booking on Blair’s behalf, and managed to get him one of the last cheap economy seats on a flight from Denver to Fort Lauderdale only a few hours after arriving at Denver train station. Even so, Blair had spent most of Xmas Day in transit, only the festive decorations in the airport’s Departure Lounge, and the determinedly cheerful cabin crew making any impact on him. 

Throughout the trip, he had tried to meditate – to find his centre in a bid to achieve some sort of inner peace - but for the most part, it didn’t work. When he did manage to doze off, he inevitably dreamed of Naomi – a dying or already dead Naomi – which roused him instantly with a start of fear and dread. The only time he truly slept was after two shots of Jack Daniels from the in-flight bar, but the alcohol-induced unconsciousness, although dreamless, didn’t do that much to alleviate his exhaustion. In fact, the only factor that helped lighten his spirits in any way was the kindness of the cabin crew. One of the flight attendants in particular empathised with the lonely young man who looked so sad, yet smiled and spoke so gently and politely, so she did her best to make his journey as pleasant as possible, offering drinks and snacks, and generally trying to make him comfortable. 

On arrival, after exiting the airport, Blair was met by Don Vasquez himself, who had come to drive him to the resort at West Palm Beach. It was a mark of his genuine regard for Naomi that he should put himself out like that, and Blair truly appreciated it. The thought of having to find other transport for the final leg of the journey had added an extra, unwanted layer of anxiety on an already overburdened soul, and Blair was heartily grateful to have the responsibility lifted from his shoulders. 

It was also an opportunity to learn first-hand how Naomi was really doing, and how she had spent the past few months. 

Don Vasquez was a tall, imposing figure of a man in his late fifties. Lean and rangy, he still sported a full head of greying hair and a neatly clipped beard, and Blair easily recalled the younger version of the happy-go-lucky hippy of Naomi and his early acquaintance. But this Don had grown and matured, and was now the proprietor of a luxurious establishment that was part spa, part retreat, and part hospice. It was a far cry for sure from the anti-establishment mind-set of the sixties, but Blair was still grateful that the connection between Naomi and her old friend was still strong. At least her last months had been spent in comfortable and friendly surroundings, and he couldn’t find it in him to berate her for that. 

“I wanted to thank you for meeting me, Don. I really appreciate it. And I truly appreciate the way you and Moonflower have cared for Naomi. I only wish she could have told me earlier how sick she was. I still don’t understand how she could have thought she was doing me a favour!” 

Don glanced over at his pale and care-worn young passenger, remembering the energetic, beautiful curly haired child he had first met. His heart went out to the young man, but he knew he had to answer truthfully. “I’m so sorry, Blair, but she was adamant that you didn’t need to know. Maybe she believed that it wasn’t as bad as she had been told, and that the doctors had made a mistake. You know her, kiddo. Always looking for the bright side in everything including health! It was only when it became obvious that she was failing that she agreed to contact you. She might not have been the world’s best mom, but she loves you so much, Blair. I believe she truly didn’t want to burden you with her problems.” 

Blair looked away, his eyes filling as he absorbed Don’s words. It was true, everything he said about Naomi. No, she had never been a regular Mom, but she had done her best in her own way, even if it often fell short of satisfactory. Flighty she had always been, but her affection for her son was unquestionable, and it was just typical that she wouldn’t want to trouble him unnecessarily. 

But couldn’t she understand that this was so much worse? This pain and shock, and terrible fear that it might yet be too late to say goodbye? Obviously not. But now was not the time to attribute blame. He would get there, thanks to the kindness of friends, and would worry about the aftermath as and when. 

Turning to face Don again, he offered a sad smile. “Thanks, Don. You’re right about her, and now’s not the time to question her actions. She’s never really understood how her behaviour has affected me, and others, truth to tell. Always ‘detaching with love’ without any concept of how many hearts she’s broken. But it was never malicious. She never had any idea that she could create such havoc without even trying! But I thank the goddess that you were there to help her. And me. You’re a true friend, Don.” 

Don’s mouth lifted in a wry almost-grin, and Blair suddenly realised that Don had probably been one of Naomi’s broken-hearted would-be suitors also, although he had plainly forgiven her, and found happiness with Moonflower, his long-term partner. It made his kindness and generosity to Naomi even more poignant, and Blair felt a lump rise in his throat which effectively choked off any further conversation along that route. 

The rest of the drive passed quietly, but not too uncomfortably, with each man respecting the other’s feelings. All too soon they were passing between the ornate gates that guarded the entrance to Don’s property, aptly named the ‘Suncrest Spa and Resort’. Blair gazed around him, interested to see the changes that had been made since his last visit, more than a decade ago. The resort looked what it was, but neither twee nor overblown and tacky. Instead the new buildings and facilities were luxurious but understated, the décor restful and making the most of the climate and natural environment. It was the perfect place in which a free spirit such as Naomi could finally come home to rest, and he felt another burst of gratitude towards Don and his creation. 

Don pulled in before one of the smaller buildings offset from the main complex, which he explained was the private hospice. It was where Naomi had been staying since her arrival, under the care of Don’s own doctor and private nursing staff, and Blair was sure that her treatment would have been the best available. 

Without more ado, he climbed out of the large SUV and followed Don into the building, eager to see Naomi despite his haggard and unkempt appearance.  


\---------------------------------  


The sight that met Blair’s eyes as he entered Naomi’s room and approached the bed shocked him to his core. Somehow, despite his nightmare images and his vivid imagination, he had still expected his mom to look pretty much the same as she always had. Elfin-featured, beautiful and animated, her rich red hair shining with good health. But the pale, thin effigy lying so still on the bed might have been dead already. Her sunken features surrounded by sparse, grey hair might have belonged to an octogenarian rather than a woman still in the prime of life, and only the slow rise and fall of her chest gave any indication that she still lived. 

“Oh, mom!” he breathed, a sob catching in his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why couldn’t you have given us more time together?” 

Kneeling beside the bed, he took one of her frail hands in his, feeling the delicate bones beneath the thin skin, her veins standing out from the almost translucent covering. His free hand reached up to gently stroke her forehead, easing the stray grey strands away so he could see her properly. 

And was shocked again when her eyes flickered open, and she blinked uncertainly before turning her head slowly to look at him. The smile that lit her face was pure Naomi, and his heart lurched with emotion when she whispered, “Sweetie! You came! I’m so happy to see you, darling, and so sorry to drag you down here like this. Don says you’ve had to deal with terrible weather in Cascade, so thank you so much for making the effort.” 

Forcing himself to grin, he murmured, “But of course I’d come, Naomi! Wild horses, Mom! What’s a bit of bad weather? But I’d have come sooner if I’d known, Mom. I would!” and he was hard put not to let the tears fall there and then. But he didn’t want to distress Naomi unnecessarily, so with a huge effort of will, he smiled tenderly instead. 

Reaching up with a shaky hand to cup his cheek, Naomi smiled softly, still totally unconscious of the pain she could still unwittingly cause her beloved only child. 

“There was no need, Sweetie! You’ve got your life to live up in Cascade, and Don and Moonflower have been so good to me. Truthfully, I didn’t expect this to happen so soon, but it’s OK, baby. I’m not scared, you know, because I know I’ll see all my loved ones again in some other life. It’s just the circle of life, Sweetie. I’m not really going anywhere!” 

Blair didn’t know what to say in answer. He knew and understood Naomi’s beliefs, and in part he accepted them and believed in them too, but right here, right now it was too much. But he was saved from making any reply as he realised that Naomi was asleep again, the small exchange enough to tire her out already. 

From his position by the doorway, where he had tactfully kept his distance during mother and son’s touchingly painful reunion, Don stepped forward and gently laid his hand on Blair’s shoulder. 

“She’ll probably sleep for a good while longer, Blair, so why don’t you take the opportunity to get cleaned up a bit and get comfortable? I’ve put you in the next room, through that connecting door; so if you go and get showered and freshened up, then you can call me from your room or from here and order some food. You need to eat, son,” he added firmly, meeting Blair’s uncooperative frown with a steady but resolute look. “You’ll do Naomi no good if you pass out from hunger and exhaustion, so you owe it to her to look after yourself too.” 

Sighing in resignation, Blair nodded slowly. “I know, Don, and I’m sorry about the attitude. You don’t deserve my pissy behaviour, and you’re right. I do need to be here for her, for as long as we have, so I promise to get my act together, OK?” 

“I know you will, son, and for the record I understand. This will be hard for you, and I hope that Moonflower and I can help in any way you’ll let us. But for now, go and get that shower, and I’ll send over some sandwiches and coffee to tide you over. How’s that suit you?” 

And what else could Blair do but agree, his gratitude showing in his eyes even if he was too choked to utter the words.  


\---------------------------------  


Over the next few days, Blair fell into a routine. He ate, because he had to; slept, when he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore, and with the connecting door wide open in case Naomi should call for him in the night. Which she never did. He showered, dressed, needing only T shirts and shorts in the Florida winter climate (indoors at least, and since he never ventured outside their tiny, two room haven, he wasn’t missing anything.) He did whatever he could – or was allowed to do by Naomi’s vigilant nursing staff – to tend to his mother’s needs, and when she was awake, they talked. 

He made certain that he kept their conversation light and happy. They reminisced about old times; their travels and adventures seeking out love and enlightenment; and Blair never once let on how often he had suffered during that time. He was careful never to allow Naomi to feel guilty on any count, keeping up a cheerful façade at all times, but at a dreadful cost to his own mental wellbeing. 

He was aware that Don and Moonflower were hovering in the background, ready to offer whatever help they could if needed, but in effect, his world had shrunk down to two rooms and two individuals, and he was determined to do his best to let one of those individuals pass on her way in peace and tranquillity. 

It was on the fifth day when Blair jerked awake from a fitful doze in the early hours of the morning. The time when the worlds of life and death were commonly believed to be closest together. He instinctively knew that something was wrong – different – and he almost fell out of bed in order to get to Naomi’s side. Sure enough, her colour was even paler than before, and her breathing sounded laboured and shallow. He grabbed the call button, reaching out to hold her hand even as he began to speak, exhorting her to hold on – to stay with him just a little longer. But even then, he realised that he was just being selfish. If it was her time, then he had no right -as he had never had the right – to dictate to her what she should do. 

A hushed commotion at the door told him that the doctor had arrived, and he wordlessly moved aside for the kindly man to check Naomi out. After a seemingly interminable wait, he turned and addressed Blair, his expression and tone genuinely sympathetic and caring. 

“I’m sorry, Blair, but your mother is very close now. She only has minutes at the most, so if you wish for a moment’s privacy, I’ll leave you both in peace. Know that she loves you, son, and that she isn’t suffering.” And with that, he squeezed Blair’s shoulder and rose to his feet, prepared to wait outside the room until his patient passed. 

Blair didn’t know what to think – how to react. It was too soon. Too final, and he wasn’t prepared. Despite everything he had done over the past few days, he wasn’t prepared. 

“Oh, Naomi! Mom! Please don’t go. Not yet! But I know I’m being selfish. Just thinking about myself, aren’t I? OK, I understand, Mom. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? And who am I to complain? It’s not about me, after all. Never has been,” he added a little bitterly. “But I’ll miss you so much, Mom. And so will so many other people in this world. You’ve been a joy, Naomi. A thoughtless butterfly on occasion, but a joy nonetheless. And when you leave, the world will be a much darker place!” 

As he uttered this final heart-felt benediction, he realised that her chest had ceased to rise, and her last breath eased softly between her parted lips. She was gone, and he prayed that she had found what she was looking for. 

Later, he was never to truly recall being taken in Don’s strong arms, or being hugged and comforted as his tears fell at last, and he sobbed out his loneliness and pain against the gentle man’s chest. He never really remembered being taken back to his room, or being given a mild sedative while the doctor and his staff did what was necessary to compose Naomi’s body. 

But he surely did remember in graphic detail her funeral, and how he had broken down into a useless heap of pain and self-centred suffering, so greatly did he miss the only person in his life who had actually cared what became of him.  


\-----------------------------  


For Blair, the next few days had passed in a blur of numbness. Naomi’s Will was read, and he learned that although she had little in the way of material possessions – it being anathema to her to covet and collect, especially as she needed to travel light – she had in fact left him a substantial amount of money from her own Trust Fund. He had often wondered how, when they might be in potentially dire straits, she always seemed to come up with just enough to keep them going, and now he knew why. Although estranged from her strict parents, she had still been left a large fund, but had refused to use it on principle unless there was no other recourse. Consequently, it had remained largely untouched, gathering interest over the years until it provided a good-sized inheritance for her only son. A son who presently couldn’t have cared less, his pain at her loss being so overwhelming. 

He went through the motions of receiving her friends’ condolences, and coped adequately with the official paperwork, but he left the planning of her funeral to Don and Moonflower, knowing that they had been in Naomi’s confidence for a long time now, and would know what she wanted probably better than Blair did. He supposed he should have insisted on being more involved, but since Naomi had never really needed him, it seemed pointless. 

The actual funeral was beautiful in its simplicity, and Blair knew it would have pleased his mom greatly. Many friends had gathered, and the humanist service was a joyous celebration of her life rather than a sombre affair. Blair had borne it with remarkable stoicism until the time came to scatter her ashes in the beautiful garden which had become her favourite place to meditate during the final months of her life. When Don had placed the container in his shaking hands, it was too much, and he fell to his knees, weeping hysterically, and quite unable to carry out the final action. It was Don who gently prised the container from Blair’s grasp, and while Moonflower comforted him as best she could, Naomi’s ashes were scattered as she had wished. 

Afterwards, although Blair knew that no one there blamed or reviled him in any way for his meltdown, he felt ashamed of his behaviour, and left for Cascade as soon as he decently could. He was eternally grateful to Don and Moonflower for everything they had done both for Naomi and for himself, but he needed to get back to Cascade. Back to his job and his studies, and most of all, to Jim. It was the driving need to reconnect with the man who had become so important to him in such a short time that kept him going and gave him a focus on which he could concentrate, and that focus stayed with him during the long journey home.  


\--------------------------  


It was an exhausted and travel weary Blair who opened the door to his shabby apartment, dropping his backpack and duffel to the floor just inside. The duffel had finally caught up with him at Suncrest a day or so before he was due to travel back, just in time for him to wear his one good suit for the funeral. Otherwise he had had little need of it, living mostly in shorts and tees which Moonflower had kindly picked out for him at the nearest Wal-Mart. 

Gazing around the dusty interior, his eye fell on the phone sitting on his rickety table, and his heart leaped in hope when he saw the message light flashing. Forgetting everything else, he plopped down on his single hard chair and pressed the button, eager to hear whatever had been recorded. The first three messages were nuisance cold calls, and he deleted them immediately, but the next one had him tensing in excitement as Jim’s well-remembered voice sounded loud and clear. 

_‘Hey, Chief. Didn’t know if you were back yet, but, um, I hope you had a good time and that your mom is all better now. Ah, just wanted to let you know that the senses are fine, thanks to those dial things. I’m back at work now, and can cope just fine as long as I don’t try to use them. Just keep them dialled down to normal levels, see. So none of those ‘zone’ things either._

_‘Thing is, Chief, I’ve been thinking, right. About what we talked about. And I’ve decided that I don’t need that ‘Supercop’ stuff to be a good detective. I don’t want to disappoint you, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to ride with me. It’s too dangerous, Chief, and I don’t want you to risk yourself like that._

_‘I’m not saying you aren’t capable, kiddo. I mean, you handled yourself just fine in the cabin and when we took on those goons. But I don’t like the idea of you doing that on a regular basis, Chief, not for me, anyhow._

_‘So, that’s what I’ve decided, OK? I know I promised we’d talk about it some more, but I don’t want to, kiddo. I’m sorry, Blair. But I think it’s for the best._

_‘Look, give me call sometime, and perhaps we can get together for a drink? Whatever, thanks again for your help, and best of luck with your dissertation, Chief. Ah, ‘bye then….’_

Completely stunned, Blair replayed the message again to make sure he hadn’t misheard, but by the third time, he knew that it was true. Jim didn’t want the senses, or to be a sentinel. Didn’t want _him._

It was too much. He thought that nothing could be worse than Naomi’s death, but Jim’s denial proved him wrong. Feeling that the bottom had dropped out of his world, he lowered his head onto his folded forearms and wept.  



	17. Prompt - Broken Promise

**Chapter 17: Prompt – Broken Promise:**   


In the MCU bullpen, Jim sat at his desk, staring sightlessly at the report in front of him. He’d been trying to read it for some time now, but his concentration was shot, and nothing was sinking in. It was just another symptom of the general feeling of malaise which had been affecting him for a while now, and it was irritating the heck out of him because he couldn’t seem to pin down a specific cause. 

In all honesty, he didn’t want to believe that it was the whole senses issue, because he’d been keeping them ruthlessly dialled down. It meant that he’d been able to return to work, much to his and Simon’s great relief, but even if he was no longer having spikes or ‘zones’, or whatever Sandburg had called them, he still didn’t feel quite _right._ He thought again about the phone message he’d left for the young man, and immediately felt a surge of shame at the cowardly way he’d brushed the other man off. The voice of his conscience insisted that he should at least go and see the grad student in person to explain his decision, even if he was met by anger and disdain. After all, he _had_ promised to talk some more about the whole issue, and just because he was managing to repress his hypersensitivity didn’t mean he should treat Sandburg in such a cavalier fashion. At the end of the day, it was Blair’s suggestion that had enabled him to control the senses, and without it, Jim would undoubtedly still be suffering agonies. And would probably have already handed his notice in, too, with an appointment with a rubber room looming in his near future. 

But the problem was that Jim was certain that, if he did meet up with the attractive young man again, his resolve would weaken, and he’d be unable to deny either Sandburg’s help and advice, or his person. And he still believed that it was unfair to ask Blair to give up so much of his time and effort to help Jim, and even more importantly, put himself into unnecessary danger on Jim’s account. 

Then again, perhaps it was wrong to try and make that decision for Sandburg, and he was only making excuses for his own cowardice. It was a conundrum he’d definitely rather not face up to, and his recent conversation with Simon hadn’t helped him any either. Sitting back in his seat, he remembered yesterday’s meeting nearly word for word; unaware that it was sentinel recall that was allowing him to do so so accurately. 

\---------------------------  
**Previous day:**  


When Jim had entered the bullpen, a perplexed frown already in place on his patrician features, he had barely reached his desk when the usual bellowed summons rang out. 

“Ellison! My office! Now, if you please!” 

Turning aside with an aggrieved sigh, Jim made his way over to Simon’s inner sanctum, wondering what the heck he’d done wrong now. He didn’t think there was anything in particular, but then again, you never knew with Simon. If he’d had the brass breathing down his neck over something, even if it was annoying rather than relevant, it would inevitably devolve onto his personnel. 

Knocking at the door, he entered on Simon’s command, his quizzical glance met and held by his captain’s speculative gaze. 

“Sit down, Jim,” the big man muttered gruffly, indicating the seat in front of his desk. “Coffee? This one’s quite drinkable, and I think you’ll like it.” At Jim’s smile and nod of acceptance, he busied himself pouring them both a mug from his personal coffee machine before settling down at his desk again. The two men sampled the fragrant blend, enjoying a few minutes’ companionable relaxation before getting down to business. 

Finally putting down his mug, Simon looked over at Jim, his clasped hands resting on the desk before him. 

“There’s a couple of things I wanted to discuss with you, Jim, both as friend and captain, so if you’re agreeable, we’ll do the official stuff first, OK?” 

Jim nodded once again, his interest piqued, and settled back in his seat to hear what Simon had to say. 

“It’s about the Oliver case, Jim, and I’m afraid you’re not going to like it too much. Needless to say, it’s nothing you’ve done, so no need to blame yourself in any way, but you deserve to be updated on the state of play so far. 

“First off, our ‘colleagues’ from the FBI have finally gotten around to providing me with the latest information, and it would seem that Oliver has managed to skip the country. He obviously has plenty of illicit connections, and the means to employ them, and has probably gone to ground in South America. Guess it’ll become the CIA’s problem from now on, but unless or until he resurfaces in the US, we won’t have to worry overmuch and our involvement isn’t required. 

“The worse news is that they found Sam Holland’s body not far from where you were picked up. Once they got him off the train, they obviously had no intention of dragging him along with them any further than necessary, and his body was found in the snow by a couple of skiers. Double tap to the head execution style. I’m sorry, man. I know he was a friend of yours.” 

Jim frowned at his words, angry at Oliver and his murdering thugs, but also with himself. OK, it hadn’t been his fault that Sam had been taken, but he still felt as if he should have been able to do something about it. 

“Thanks for telling me, sir. Sam was a friend, but I hadn’t seen him in a long time. But I still feel bad about what happened. I was supposed to protect him, after all!” 

“And just how were you supposed to do that when it was the Feds themselves who were the murdering traitors? Don’t tell me you think you could have taken them on single-handed if you’d been able to use those senses you were complaining about? At least you’re not being troubled by them now.” 

Jim glanced aside for a moment, not knowing quite how to answer that. He felt it was time he confided in Simon, who was after all his oldest friend in the PD as well as being his boss. Maybe if he could use the older man as a sounding board, he could make sense – no pun intended – of what he had been told about his so-called genetic advantage, even if he had no intention of pursuing it. 

Of course, it meant that he’d have to tell Simon all about Blair, and he wasn’t sure about how his boss would take that, but it would have to be done. So far all Simon knew was the bare basics. That Sandburg was a grad student at Rainier who had been unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, but had behaved commendably considering the circumstances, and had survived more or less intact. But now Jim was going to have to go into far more detail, and that wasn’t going to be easy for a private man like himself who preferred to keep himself to himself. 

Turning back to meet Simon’s enquiring gaze, he took a deep, calming breath and began. 

“Um about the senses, sir. This is going to sound pretty ‘out there’, I realise, but I think I know what was wrong with me now. Thanks to that student I got handcuffed to. Call it fate, whatever, it turns out that he’s a grad student working on his dissertation in Anthropology, and his speciality is on the subject of tribal sentinels. See, apparently it’s like this…” and he proceeded to explain everything he had learned to Simon. 

To his credit, Simon listened without interruption, although it was clear that he was having trouble suspending his disbelief, and when Jim finally wound down he studied his detective carefully for long moments. 

“So, let me get this straight, Jim. This Sandburg character reckons you’re a modern equivalent to these ‘watchmen’, and he thinks you should be using the senses to improve your performance as a cop? So, why aren’t you? I mean, I know you were having serious problems for a while, but if what he says is true, then you know now how to control them. Am I right?” 

“Er, no, sir. It’s not as easy as that!” Jim replied resignedly. “See, it’s all very well being able to keep them lowered to normal levels - thanks to one of his suggestions, I may add – but I can’t use them properly without training, and without someone to back me up in the field in case I have one of those ‘zone out’ things. It just wouldn’t be safe. And there’s no one I’d trust to be able to do that for me. I mean, don’t get me wrong. There’re some competent cops out there in the bullpen, but no one who has the knowledge to do what Sandburg could do. And since he’s not here, I don’t intend to put myself or anyone else at risk.” 

Simon frowned, mulling over what Jim had said. He decided that he’d like to meet this Sandburg himself and find out a bit more about the kid and his theories, but something told him that there was more to Jim’s story that he’d let on. So he decided to push a little more. 

“Now, don’t get me wrong, Jim, but could this reluctance to involve this kid more have anything to do with how you feel about him? And I don’t just mean your decision to go it alone as usual. Does he mean more than just a casual, if knowledgeable acquaintance to you?” 

Jim’s lips thinned in an irritated grimace. Dammit, he should have known that he couldn’t fool Simon. The man knew about his sexual preferences, even though Jim never advertised them. He had no problem with being bi, and had had his moments both in the military, and in Vice, but since transferring to MCU, he had dated women exclusively, simply so as not to rock the boat. Hell, he had even been married for a few months to Lt Carolyn Plummer, who headed up the Forensics detail, although that had turned out to be an unmitigated disaster from the outset. But the fact remained that he still admired a beautiful man, and Blair was surely one of the most attractive he’d ever laid eyes on. 

“Even if that’s true, sir, I’m not pursuing a relationship with him. He doesn’t need to be dragged around with me into dangerous and nasty scenarios. He’s an academic, Simon, so how could I possibly expect him to endanger himself like that?” 

“Even if he felt the same way about you, Jim? ‘Cos it seems to me that, from everything you’ve said so far – or _not_ said, as the case may be – he’s been more than willing to help you. So why not take him up on his offer? I’m not saying I’m overly convinced yet that this is no more than some sort of voodoo bullshit, but if he’s right, you could be of immense benefit to the department, even more so than you are now!” 

In all honesty, Jim hadn’t known how to reply to that, and the conversation had terminated at that point. But it had certainly served to make Jim think, and the conclusions he had reached had been troubling to say the least and still weighed on his mind. And by far the worst aspect was that he had absolutely no concept of how much he had hurt the one man who could help him the most.  



	18. Prompt - Guilty Pleasures

**Chapter 18: Prompt – Guilty Pleasures:**   


Over the next few days, Jim continued to ponder on his feelings, both physical and mental, without reaching any firm decision about what to do about them. He knew he was getting more and more antsy to work with, undoubtedly on account of his refusal to let up on his determined control of his senses. The continuous strain of holding them down to normal levels was wearing on him, and his patience was growing thin. His colleagues were giving him a wide berth whenever they didn’t have to interact with him for work, and he knew he was getting more morose and uncommunicative without being able to do anything about it. He was well aware that Simon was watching him closely, and he heartily wished that he’d kept his mouth shut about Sandburg and the sentinel stuff. 

Not that it was hardly Sandburg’s fault, and he knew it. It was just that he was having unexpected urges where that young man was concerned, and it wasn’t helping matters. It was as if his conscience was trying to tell him something, and by god, it was doing a bang-up job of it if his physical reactions were anything to go by. Alone in his bed at night, he could recall every detail of the smaller man’s body as they had cuddled together for warmth, remembering the touch of Blair’s hair against his skin, and the rasp of bristles when the young man moved his cheek unconsciously over Jim’s chest in sleep. He had no trouble conjuring up the attractive features on the young face, or the exquisite personal scent, even under a couple of days’ worth of sweat and fear. He heard again the rhythmic drumming of Blair’s steady heartbeat, and the soothing, dark chocolate tones of the compelling voice. 

And last but not least, he easily recalled the addictive taste of the lush lips, however brief their kiss had been. 

In short, he finally remembered the moment of shocking enlightenment when his senses had imprinted the young man completely, and he knew that he wanted him. All of him, and in every way possible. 

And that just couldn’t be. Could it? 

He told himself that no, it was wrong to approach Blair again. By now he would undoubtedly have gotten over his disappointment – or justifiable anger – at Jim for letting him down, and no good could come of reigniting his hopes. He was safely back on his academic merry-go-round, and there was no way Jim wanted him to ride the Major Crimes rollercoaster of possible death and destruction. 

So why then did he find himself stroking himself in the shower, images of a sultry and teasing Sandburg constantly flashing behind eyes closed in rapture, and the kid’s name on his lips when he came like a train before washing away the evidence down the drain? 

Each and every time it happened, he chastised himself roundly for his ridiculous and unattainable fantasies, and told himself that he should get himself a date with an accommodating woman as soon as possible. It wasn’t as if he’d ever had a problem attracting the opposite sex before, even if only for a one night stand. But the thought held no real attraction for him, and simply wasn’t worth the effort. 

But something had to give, and he had no idea what or when that might be, even though he had enough daydreams about various scenarios he would like to have happen. And in the meantime, all he could do was live from day to day, and try to hang on to his sanity.  



	19. Prompt - Longing

**Chapter 19: Prompt – Longing:**   


Rousing groggily from the uncomfortable position at the table where he had cried himself to sleep, Blair groaned as he straightened up, still desperately tired and not yet ready or able to think clearly. Tottering over to his small bed, he threw himself facedown fully dressed, and immediately passed out again, his exhaustion too great to fight even if he’d a mind to. Everything was just too hard to deal with, and his brain had shut down for its own defence. 

It was many hours later when he finally crawled unwillingly out of his near-coma, which had at least been dream-free for the most part. Flopping over onto his back, he peered myopically up at the ceiling, momentarily disorientated and confused, but the comforting blankness couldn’t last. Too soon the burden of his new reality forced itself upon him, and he gasped and shuddered at the cold realisation that he was now completely and utterly alone. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, yet still a few tears managed to spill from the corners, to drip onto the mussed pillow, and he bit his lip hard in an effort to contain the sob of pure despair that wanted to emerge. For long minutes he lay there, trying hard to fight off the dark despondency that threatened to choke him, and for the briefest moment, he truly believed that life really wasn’t worth living. 

But then an angry inner voice which sounded remarkably like Naomi was scolding him. Telling him forcibly that life – _all_ life – was precious, and that he shouldn’t even contemplate ending his own and wasting such a gift. Her gift to him, which wasn’t given lightly. 

It was true, and he knew it, but didn’t have to like it. But he had always embraced Naomi’s love of life, and couldn’t deny it now. Because if he did, he was ruefully certain that his peace-loving mom would find some way of coming back to torment him, and the thought of an afterlife at odds with his beloved Naomi didn’t bear thinking of. 

So, there was nothing for it but to soldier on, doing what he could to help others through his teaching and charitable activities, and hoping to find a worthwhile goal somewhere down the line, even if it didn’t involve the mutual love and protection he so desired, and which he thought he had found in Jim Ellison. His desire to be needed was too strongly ingrained in his character to ignore, and the knowledge that no one really needed him for himself, and probably never would, was galling in the extreme. 

Determinedly clamping down on that line of thought, he rolled stiffly off the bed and dragged himself over to the bathroom, his bladder suddenly warning him that relief was urgently needed. Once he had dealt with that small problem, he stripped off his travel-stained and crumpled clothes, and stepped into the shower, using every bit of available hot water to try and scrub away not just surface dirt, but the blackness that seemed to stick to his very heart and soul. Without much success, it had to be said, but at least he was superficially clean and clean-shaven again which he supposed was a step in the right direction. 

Although he didn’t really want to eat, a growling belly and swirl of light-headedness told him that he really should, so he half-heartedly checked out his small pantry. Naturally, there were no perishables in sight because of his prolonged absence, but there was a lonely tin of tomato soup on the shelf, so he reached for that. 

Shortly afterwards, and fortified by the soup and a cup of herbal tea, he reached for the phone before he could change his mind, and dialled the Anthropology Department. There was no point in delaying, and nothing else to do but throw himself back into his teaching and studying in the hope that in time some measure of peace and contentment could be his once more.  


\-------------------------------  


Over the next few days Blair fell into yet another routine, even though it was a joyless one. He threw himself back into his teaching, volunteering to take more evening classes and seminars simply so that he didn’t have to go home before exhaustion forced him to. When he didn’t have them, he went to the library to prepare for his new dissertation, having seen Eli the day after his return to Rainier to inform him that he was definitely not pursuing the ‘sentinel’ topic. He said that he wanted to do the paper on closed societies, but would probably be focussing on the Fire Department. Eli didn’t have to know that the PD was out of the question now, on account of Jim’s rejection of him. 

However, the older academic wasn’t fooled by Blair’s feigned insouciance, although he didn’t call the young man on it. He trusted that Blair would come clean in his own good time when he was ready, but in the meantime, Eli supported him in his new subject, as did his committee. 

Although Blair did his very best to interact normally with his friends and students, in fact he wasn’t fooling them at all. It took very little time for those who cared about him – and they were a far greater number than the unassuming young man would ever have imagined – to see right through the faked cheerfulness and almost frantic behaviour to the desperate sadness beneath. The problem was trying to do anything about it when Blair himself was in such denial. The only course of action was to keep a watchful eye on him, and try to be there to catch him when the inevitable fall happened and his acting ability failed him at last. 

However, although the days passed in almost continuous activity, which at least gave him little time to think or mope, the evenings were pure torture for him. Unable to stretch his studying and social interactions for an unlimited time without fear of going into public meltdown, which was something he refused to do, there were times when he simply had to go home by himself. And if he wasn’t exhausted enough to fall straight into a dreamless almost coma, that was when the nightmares struck, and his already bruised psyche took more direct hits. It couldn’t go on, and he knew it, but didn’t know how to get out of the awful cycle. Although he despised self-pity, it just seemed to him that somewhere during his train adventure, the harrowing aftermath of Naomi’s death and Jim’s rejection of him, something vital inside him had been snuffed out, and only a reluctant, animated husk remained. 

He tried so hard not to think about Jim. How the powerful but gentle man had held and comforted him so tenderly during their trial in the cabin and afterwards once they had been rescued. He tried not to recall Jim’s reluctant acceptance of his amazing gift, and the joy Blair had felt when the big cop had accepted his shyly offered help and had promised more to come. And he really tried not to recall that tender kiss. He realised that, in his vulnerable state, he had foolishly read far too much into it and taken it as a foretaste of the partnership he had so longed for all his life. 

He’d been a gullible fool, and he knew it. But it didn’t stop the desperate longing that assailed him every time he let his guard down, and he also suspected that, given half a chance, he would throw himself at Jim’s mercy again without a second thought, self-esteem be damned.  



	20. Prompt - Dreams

**Chapter 20: Prompt – Dreams:**   


**#307, 852 Prospect:**  


Jim eased himself down onto his sofa with a groan, his eyes closing briefly in relief as he settled back into the yielding cushions. 

“You OK, Jim?” Simon’s worried voice came from behind him, the big captain hovering uncertainly as he contemplated his injured detective. 

Jim forced a wan smile to his lips as he turned his head slightly to acknowledge his boss and friend. “I’m fine, Simon. Better than Mulligan, anyway! I just need some sleep is all. Without being poked at! No way were the medics going to keep me in hospital overnight.” 

“Well, if you’re sure, I’ll leave you to it then. But I’ll call in in the morning on the way to the PD, OK? See how you’re doing, man.” 

“Thanks, Simon, and thanks for the lift also. Don’t worry, OK?” Jim replied, although he could tell that Simon wasn’t truly convinced. Nevertheless, right now he needed his own company, even if he appreciated Simon’s concern, and he was relieved when his friend made his way to the door and let himself out. Once he was certain he was alone, he allowed himself to show the agony he was really feeling, the grimace on his handsome face betraying the struggle he was having trying to control the pain, which felt far worse than his injuries suggested it should be. Even telling himself that he’d been remarkably lucky didn’t help, although the recollection of the event that caused them distracted him a little. 

Jim, along with several other colleagues from Major Crimes, had been working a joint case with Narcotics trying to bring down two major drug dealing gangs who had started trading in Cascade. When word got out that a serious deal was about to go down, with the main players present, the respective department captains put together a hasty plan to catch them _in flagrante._ The venue was an old warehouse, and the cops, including Jim, had been in place waiting for the action to go down. Sure enough, as soon as the deal was struck, so did the cops, and nearly every one of the perps was arrested without a shot being fired. 

However, one of them had made a break for it, and Jim had chased him down. The trouble was that he had climbed up to a rickety gallery in his panicked efforts to escape, and when Jim tackled him, the rusty metalwork had given way. Jim had managed to break his fall by grabbing on to part of an old ladder, but the perp, Arnie Mulligan, hadn’t been so lucky. Whereas Jim got away with some serious bruising, a couple of cracked ribs and strained shoulder muscles, Mulligan broke both legs and fractured his skull, and the last Jim heard, it was touch and go if he survived to stand trial. 

All in all, Jim knew he’d gotten off lightly, but still couldn’t understand why he should hurt so much. However, it occurred to him that the senses were simply reacting to the abnormal shock, and were trying to spin out of control. He might have thought that he had the whole ‘dial’ thing down pat, but obviously this was far beyond anything he’d had to do for himself before. Breathing deeply, he reached for the imaginary dial for touch again, only to find that it wasn’t responding. He tried in vain for a few minutes, cursing under his breath, until he suddenly pictured Blair standing before him, his attractive face showing nothing but care and concern. And then Jim could hear the soothing tones as the dream-Blair talked him through the actions, and suddenly it was easy. The pain was lowered to a bearable level, even though Jim could also hear the young man’s caveat. _‘Not too low, man. Your body needs to heal, so a bit of pain will stop you from overdoing it, Jim.’_

Sighing both in relief from the agony, and regret that Blair wasn’t here in person, Jim slowly took himself off to bed, thinking that a good night’s sleep would do him the world of good. 

\-----------------------------  


He hadn’t been asleep for long when he woke to find himself in a vaguely familiar jungle setting, even if it was tinted blue. Bemused, he gazed around him, and then looked down at himself, surprised to see that he was wearing the outfit he’d adopted during his last mission in Peru. The camo pants, sleeveless vest and bandana had suited the conditions he had been living in, and the compound bow slung over his shoulder was equally familiar. But that mission had been several years ago, so why was he dreaming about it now? Was it because of the recent case involving Colonel Oliver? Or something else? 

“You’re right, Enqueri,” a gentle voice came from behind him. “There is another reason for your visit.” 

Spinning around, Jim beheld the much-missed figure of Incacha, the Chopec shaman who had cared for him after the helicopter crash that had killed his team. The same shaman who had helped him integrate into the tribe, allowing him to carry out his mission with their help. 

“Incacha! It’s wonderful to see you, but I don’t understand all this,” Jim said, indicating the surrounding area with a sweep of his arm. “This is…I don’t know…weird. But I feel as if I should know it.” 

Incacha smiled gently. “As you should, Enqueri. This is your vision-scape, sentinel. Or have you forgotten everything I taught you?” 

Jim stared uncomprehendingly at him for a moment, until Incacha reached out a hand and placed it over Jim’s heart. “Think, Enqueri. Remember! This is your destiny, should you accept it.” 

And suddenly Jim did remember. He understood now what that vague memory was that he had repressed so thoroughly. His senses had come on-line here, and that was how, with Incacha’s help and guidance, he had managed so successfully to both survive and complete his mission. It was only after his ‘rescue’ and repatriation that he had shut them down, and now he knew why. 

“You were my companion, weren’t you, Incacha? My guide. Without you I couldn’t function as a sentinel, so I turned off the senses, didn’t I?” 

“Yes, Enqueri, I did act as your guide, but as I told you back then, I am not your true guide. He still awaits you in the Great City. You have hurt him sorely, Enqueri, because of your own fears. Together you should be a credit to your tribe, as you were here. But alone neither of you can thrive now you have connected. If you wish to help your guide and serve your tribe as their watchman protector, you must go to him. Seal the bond that has already been set in motion.” 

Jim stared at him, his expression betraying both hope and fear. “I want to believe you, old friend,” he murmured. “It’s true that I felt an attraction to Blair the first time I saw him. But I just thought that it was an amazing coincidence that he knew all about the ‘sentinel’ stuff. It was destiny at work, wasn’t it?” 

“Indeed, Enqueri,” Incacha replied with a knowing grin. “But if you are prepared to accept your true role, now is the time. And he will help,” he added, indicating the sleek black jaguar who materialised at his side. 

The great cat stared into Jim’s eyes, and Jim read its silent message. “He’s my spirit animal, isn’t he? I remember him now. But I forgot him along with everything else.” 

“For your own protection, Enqueri. But if you take him back, your gift will be assured. A sentinel will always be a sentinel if he so chooses. As long as you also take your Guide.” 

Jim met his wise and understanding gaze, torn now between fear and growing excitement. Then he nodded firmly. “I choose, Incacha. I choose my gift, and my Guide.” 

Incacha smiled widely, and the great cat rose to its feet. The next second it leapt at Jim, and disappeared as it struck his chest. 

And Jim woke up, back in the loft; a sentinel once again.  


\--------------------------------  


**Same evening, Blair’s apartment:**  


Blair shuffled into his shabby unit, dropping his backpack on the floor near the door before toeing off his ratty sneakers and hanging up his thrift shop topcoat. Staring at it disinterestedly, it occurred to him that he could afford some new clothes if he so wished, thanks to the legacy Naomi had left him, but he felt no inclination to do so. It was partly because he didn’t have the energy or urgency, and partly because it would mean accepting that she was never coming back, and he wasn’t ready to do that just yet. It wasn’t so much continuous, stubborn denial as self-preservation, because his state of mind was still so very fragile and he was barely getting through the day as it was. 

Today was a case in point. He had had two lectures that morning, and the constant effort of trying to keep up a façade of cheerful enthusiasm was wearing him down. He was aware that his efforts weren’t as successful as he’d like, especially as he had been forced to reveal Naomi’s death to his closest friends, and word had soon spread. Their relentless, if well-meaning questioning had derailed his efforts at obfuscating, as had their obvious concern for him, but he really hadn’t wanted to have to tell anyone except for Eli, his Head of Department, and those few others who needed to know in an official capacity. The last thing he wanted was pity, because that was the worst burden of all to bear. 

However, now he couldn’t escape the whispers and outright sympathy or awkwardness that his recent loss engendered in his students and his colleagues, and of course they had no idea about the double blow he had been dealt with Jim’s rejection. 

On top of that, today he had been advised once again that it was unlikely that he would be granted the opportunity to observe the workings of the Fire Department and EMS personnel until the question of insurance could be settled, and that wasn’t going to be anytime soon, as TPTB seemed to be in no hurry to deal with it. Consequently, his dissertation was on hold indefinitely, which was yet another setback to deal with. Normally a ‘glass half full’ sort of person, this series of body blows was threatening his sanity, and he knew it. Hell, he’d had more than his share of therapy during his short life that he couldn’t recognise the onset of deep depression when it loomed on the horizon. And best not to think about the panic attacks. 

Although it wasn’t that late, he thought he might as well turn in anyway. The alternative was either to go out and perhaps join his fellow TAs at the local bar, or do a little more groundwork on the stalled diss, and that definitely didn’t appeal. So, with a disconsolate shrug, he wandered over to his tiny kitchenette to snag a bottle of water from the table top refrigerator. From there, he shambled over to the miniscule bathroom and relieved himself before cleaning his teeth and making ready for bed. Another long, lonely night beckoned, but it wasn’t anything new, so he just intended to do his best to relax and find his centre, and maybe – just maybe – this time it would work. 

Much to his surprise, although as usual his physical exhaustion allowed him to drop off to sleep quickly, this time he didn’t awaken after far too short a rest troubled by the usual upsetting and disturbing dreams-cum-nightmares that had plagued him for far too long. The vivid collage of images of Naomi scolding him for his weakness and self-pity and an exasperated Jim shaking his head and telling him to get over himself; plus leering caricatures of the thugs who had threatened him; was this time replaced by the strangest scene. Perplexed, he found himself standing in a jungle clearing similar to the type of environment he’d seen many times in his expeditions to South America, particularly the Amazon Basin. But never tinted blue. Weird! Turning in a slow circle, he paused when the rustling of undergrowth warned him of someone – or something’s – approach. He gasped in wide-eyed shock when the bushes parted to reveal a large, grey timber wolf. 

A wolf? In the jungle? Huh? His brain fought to comprehend the non-native animal’s presence; even as his fight or flight response exhorted him to make his escape as soon as possible. But then the animal simply sat down opposite him, regarding him calmly with its large, blue eyes. Eyes exactly like his own, if he did but realise it. 

He was even more shocked when a voice from behind him spoke up. 

“Do not be afraid, Young Wolf. He is but your spirit animal, and means you no harm.” 

Blair spun around again, and found himself face to face with a native in traditional clothing of the type he had seen before on indigenous tribesmen in the Amazonian jungle. The man wore a short, leather kilt and sandals, his neck and arms adorned with beads and bracelets of the type Blair himself was fond, and his face and chest had been painted with symbols and native designs. Long, black hair was braided and beaded, and the kindly face wore an expression that was both wise and unthreatening. 

“Um, I don’t wish to be rude, but where am I? And how come I can understand you, unless you speak English, that is, because my Quechua’s not that good.” 

“So many questions, Young Wolf, but that is why you are here after all. Now, sit, and we will talk.” 

The other man folded himself gracefully into a comfortable, cross-legged position, and after just a moment’s pause, Blair followed suit. He didn’t have long to wait before his new acquaintance spoke again. 

“My name is Incacha, and I am shaman to the Chopec people of Peru. I do not speak English, Young Wolf, but language is no drawback here on the spirit plane. I know that this is your first visit to this manifestation of the spirit world, which is unsurprising, because by rights it belongs to Enqueri. But if all occurs as it should, then you will be able to visit whenever you desire. 

“But I get ahead of myself,” he added with an amused smile at Blair’s bemused expression. 

“You have long searched for a sentinel, have you not? How did you describe it – the ‘Real deal’, I believe. And you believe that you have found one, only to be rebuffed.” 

At Blair’s crestfallen look, he reached out and clasped Blair’s forearm in a firm but gentle grip. “Do not despair, Young Wolf. All may yet turn out as you wish. 

“You have studied these watchmen, or sentinels, for many years, and know more about them than most Westernised people, even those who study humankind as you do. And you have already realised that the sentinel needs a companion to watch his back. But you do not know just how important such a companion truly is. The companion, or Guide, if you will, is far more than just friend and helpmeet. The sentinel and his true guide are as two halves to one soul, and their bond is sacrosanct.” 

Blair’s face fell again at that, believing that the shaman was implying that he had no chance of becoming one of these companions, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. Although to took a while longer for the penny to drop. 

Incacha shook his arm to attract his attention again, his expression reproving. “Enough of that, Young Wolf! See!” and he waved his arm to reveal an image. A very familiar image. 

Standing before them was a tall soldier, dressed in short-sleeved vest, camo pants and bandana, his ice blue eyes alert and his magnificent body tense and ready for action. And Blair knew his face. He had seen it first as a teen on the cover of a glossy magazine; the iconic image that of a man who had gone above and beyond the call of duty to carry out his mission despite unbelievable odds. An image that had made a great impression on his young mind, and now he finally joined the dots. 

This man – this sentinel, as affirmed by Incacha - was none other than Jim Ellison. Or Enqueri, as Incacha called him. And Blair knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would do anything in his power to prove that he wanted – no, needed – to be with him. 

He turned to face Incacha again, his eyes wide with astonishment and hope, though tinged with insecurity and fear. “Do you mean - I mean, have I got this right – that I could be one of these guides? Jim’s guide?” he stammered, praying that he wasn’t making a fool of himself. 

He was answered by Incacha’s gentle smile, even though his words were still somewhat enigmatic. 

“It could come to pass, Young Wolf, if you truly accept what you are, or what you should be. Only then will Enqueri accept you as he should. If you are prepared to tie yourself to Enqueri for life, to be his and his alone, as he will be yours alone, then it shall be done. But once the decision is made, there will be no going back. Do you understand this?” he added severely. 

Blair didn’t have to think twice. “I accept, Incacha,” he replied breathlessly. “I feel it! It’s what I have been searching for all my life. A purpose, and a special person to share it with.” 

“Then it shall be so,” Incacha answered, beckoning the wolf to his side. “He is yours, and will guard and guide you both in your world and here on the spirit plane. As Enqueri’s spirit animal guides him,” and a sleek, black jaguar appeared alongside the wolf. The animals rubbed against each other, plainly pleased to be together, and Blair felt the warmth of their affection. And then he was distracted again by Incacha’s hand being placed over his heart. 

“I pass to you the Way of the Shaman, Young Wolf. In the fullness of time, you will come into your powers, as only the strongest companion will do for a sentinel of Enqueri’s ability. And in the meantime, do not despair. Your wish will be granted, as will Enqueri’s, as long as you both remain steadfast. Now go, and do what you must.” 

Abruptly, the blue jungle shimmered and faded from sight, and Blair woke in his own bed, staring up at the dimly-lit ceiling with wide eyes. 

_Oh, man!_ he thought. _That was some dream! I pray to the goddess that it might come true. Naomi always believed in the power of dreams – please let her be right!_

Feeling lighter and more hopeful than he had in many a long day, even before his world was torn apart by his mother’s imminent death, he turned over in bed and fell asleep again, this time knowing that he had something to fight for, if only he had the willpower. And starting tomorrow, he was going to do just that.   



	21. Prompt - Telepathy

**Chapter 21: Prompt – Telepathy:**   


The following morning, Blair woke bright and early, but feeling more rested and energised than he had felt for weeks now. However, his excitement and eager intent to pursue the path along which his dream advisor had directed him was shadowed by a niggling conviction that something was amiss with the focus of his desire. He felt certain that all was not right in Jim’s world, and that feeling was coupled with a distinct impression that he was being summoned to Jim’s aid. It wasn’t telepathy, _per se,_ because he knew he wasn’t reading the other man’s thoughts. It was just an amorphous sensation; a pull of mind to mind which he had no intention of ignoring. 

The problem was that he had neither Jim’s home address nor his telephone number. When they had parted at the hotel he had been too distracted to ask, and Jim hadn’t provided his number when he had left that devastating telephone message for Blair. At the time, the distraught young man had assumed it was because the offer to give Jim a call wasn’t genuine, and maybe it wasn’t then. But now there was no way Blair was going to be fobbed off with that as an excuse. He truly believed that last night’s dream was all the proof he needed to pursue his destiny; and that destiny was with Jim whether the older man knew it yet or not. 

There was nothing for it but to ring Jim at the PD, so taking his courage in both hands, Blair dialled the number, his heart thumping in his chest in nervous anticipation. And some trepidation, truth be told. It took a few moments to be put through to Major Crimes, but when a female voice answered Jim’s extension, he was disappointed and worried also, especially when he was told that Jim wasn’t available today. 

“Look, my name’s Blair Sandburg, and I really need to speak to Detective Ellison,” he said urgently. “Please can you at least give me a contact number?” 

“I’m afraid not, sir, but if you wish I can put you through to Captain Banks,” the voice answered unenthusiastically. 

Blair replied in the affirmative, and waited eagerly for the transfer to be made. But when the gruff and irritated “Banks!” barked in his ear, he nearly dropped the handset in fright. But he was made of far sterner stuff than most folks would believe, so he adopted his most persuasive tone and repeated his request for either a contact number, or for Jim’s home address. 

“Now look here, Mr Sandburg, I can’t give out private information like that to just anyone. You should know that!” the irascible captain responded. “But if you tell me what business you have with Detective Ellison, perhaps I can help you.” 

There was nothing for it but for Blair to bite the bullet and hope that his explanation mollified Jim’s boss enough to at least convince him that Blair meant Jim no harm. So he told Banks of his connection with Jim as far as the Oliver case was concerned, vaguely implying that he and Jim had something in common which needed to be discussed. 

“And that would be what, Mr Sandburg?” Simon demanded, his tone both inquisitive and faintly forbidding. “Would it have anything to do with Jim’s hypersensitivity, by any chance? You _are_ the Blair Sandburg who told him about that ‘sentinel’ shit, aren’t you?” 

There was no point in denying it, and this was important, so Blair agreed immediately. “Yes, sir. I am. And I can help him, sir. If you’ll let me know how to contact him. He is OK, isn’t he?” he added worriedly. 

Simon was in something of a quandary, not certain that he was doing the right thing by even encouraging Sandburg, but he recalled Jim’s words about this kid being the only one who could help him, and it seemed to Simon that Sandburg was more than willing to try. So who was he to stand in the way? Even if there was no way the kid could actually ride with Jim, perhaps he could keep working voluntarily with him behind the scenes so that Jim could learn to control and work with the senses after all. Simon wasn’t enough of a hypocrite to deny that he’d very much like Jim to use these so-called ‘super powers’ to enhance the unit’s performance stats, but that wasn’t the only reason. He had watched Jim grow more withdrawn and unhappy ever since the rescue, and he was sure that it was because he had denied himself the opportunity of accepting Sandburg’s help. 

But first he needed know if Sandburg was genuine in his apparent concern on Jim’s behalf. 

“OK, Mr Sandburg, here’s what I propose. Jim’s on sick leave right now, so I’ll call Jim myself and ask him if he’s happy to have you contact him. If he is, I’ll call you back and give you the relevant information. It’s the best I can do.” 

Blair thanked him eagerly and gave him both his cell phone number and his office number at Rainier before terminating the call, but it had to be said that he was truly anxious now, both on Jim’s behalf, and in case Banks was only trying to get rid of him. He just had to hope that the man’s offer was genuine, and that Jim would be receptive. 

But he also told himself that even if this first approach was unsuccessful, he wasn’t going to give up. There were other ways of discovering where Jim lived, he was sure. He just hoped he didn’t have to go to such extremes.  


\--------------------------------------  


It was actually only an hour or so before Simon called Blair back. Blair had just entered his tiny office-cum-storage space in Hargrove Hall when his cell phone rang. Breathlessly responding, he sank down onto his desk chair in boneless relief when Simon somewhat reluctantly gave him both Jim’s home number and his address. He made it quite clear, however, that he was doing so under protest, and only because Jim had given him the go-ahead. No need to encourage the kid any more than he had to, just in case he wasn’t all he seemed. 

Not that Blair could have cared less right then what Banks thought of him. He was just happy to know that Jim was at least prepared to meet with him, otherwise why would he have allowed his boss to call back? All he needed to do now was get his morning lecture over with, and he could go and visit Jim. 

And whatever happened thereafter was in the hands of the goddess. Or Incacha and their animal spirits, perhaps? 

\-------------------------------  


**Meanwhile, in the loft:**  


If Jim had been able to prowl around his territory in comfort he would have, except that his ribs were protesting too much for that form of tension relief. Instead, he had to be satisfied with sitting on his sofa, toying with the TV remote on the off chance of finding something even vaguely interesting enough to distract him from his whirling thoughts and emotions. 

When he had awoken that morning, still pumped from the after-effects of his dream-vision, although he had accepted the truth of Incacha’s words, he was still worried about how they could be fulfilled. After all, whatever his old friend and shaman had said about Blair’s commitment, he had personally hurt the little guy unforgivably in his efforts to distance himself from possible disappointment. He had begun to recall more and more details about his time in Peru, and figured that it was more than likely that his senses had appeared at other times in his life, only to be repressed out of sheer self-preservation. Not that he wanted to explore that possibility any time soon. It was enough that he accepted them and himself for what he was now, and providing Blair was still amenable, he would be able to use them now for the good of his new tribe in the Great City. 

Of course, he realised that it would be stupid to broadcast his ability far and wide, because he certainly didn’t want the bad guys to learn how to use the senses against him. And he really didn’t want to become either the target of some scumbag looking for the kudos of taking down the super-cop, or perhaps some clandestine government organisation looking to use him for their own ends. He had had enough of covert ops to last him a lifetime, and had no intention of going that route again. It was to be hoped that Blair would understand his fears and not try to work against him for his own gratification, although he didn’t actually believe that that would be the case. 

Just as long as the young man was still of a mind to help him after all he’d been put through. 

But then Jim had received Simon’s phone call, and his heart had swelled in gratitude and relief when his boss had told him about Sandburg’s enquiry. It would appear that Blair had more fortitude and determination than Jim had previously given him credit for, and was actively pursuing the possibility of at least meeting up again. So who was Jim to deny him? 

After giving Simon permission to give out his details, rather than call Blair directly, all he could do was sit back and see if Sandburg would actually follow through with his intention. And the anticipation was driving him nuts. 

Suddenly, Jim was aware of a presence approaching his building, and he knew instantly who it was. His senses went on full alert, reaching out instinctively for the one person who could settle and sooth them effortlessly. Blair was on his way up. Hallelujah! Hearing stretched out eagerly to locate the much-missed heartbeat, even if it was somewhat elevated at present, and the young man’s enticing scent reached sensitive nostrils. OK, it was slightly tainted with what? – nervousness perhaps? – but it was welcome for all that, and Jim’s eyes closed for a moment in sheer bliss. 

Heaving himself awkwardly to his feet, he moved to the door, ready to open it at Blair’s knock, not wishing to startle him by opening it prematurely. He guessed that the young man would be stressed enough already without having party tricks like that played on him. 

As Blair walked up the corridor towards #307, he was muttering to himself, and Jim couldn’t help but grin at the words, even if he didn’t like the note of self-deprecation in the young man’s tone. 

“Come on, Sandburg! You can do this! What’s the worst that can happen? He’s not going to deck you. I hope. I just need to see him. See he’s OK. Goddess! I’ve got it bad. But what can he possibly see in me? Already pushed me away once….” And then the footsteps stopped, and Jim heard Blair take a deep, calming breath. “OK, here goes nothing!” 

As soon as Blair knocked on the door, Jim threw it open and feasted his eyes on the small, somewhat scruffy, and very nervous figure peering up at him, a tentative smile pulling at his generous lips. And realised without a shadow of a doubt that he had never before seen anyone more welcome in all his life.  



	22. Prompt - Apology

**Chapter 22: Prompt – Apology:**   


Returning Blair’s shy smile, Jim stepped back and invited him in with a sweep of his good arm. Crossing the threshold, Blair gazed around him quickly at the airy, pristine apartment, then looked up at Jim again. 

“Uh, nice place, Jim,” he murmured, trying for casual, but not really succeeding, because his heart was pounding now with nervous tension. It was no good. He’d just have to come right out with what he wanted to say, so he swallowed hard and began, “Ah, look, Jim I’m…” just as Jim came to the same decision. 

“I’m so sorry, Chief…” 

Grinning sheepishly, they paused and took a mental step backwards. “After you, Chief,” said Jim gallantly. “But perhaps we should sit down first, OK? Get a bit more comfortable.” 

Suddenly realising that Jim was in pain, Blair hurriedly agreed. “Oh, sure, man. Are you OK? You look really pale all of a sudden.” 

Moving a little stiffly back to the sofa, Jim replied, “It’s not so bad, Chief. And at least I can dial it down like you taught me. And it’s even easier now you’re here in person,” he added quietly. 

Blair followed him and sat on the love seat catty corner to Jim so he could see the sentinel properly. 

“That’s good of you to say, man,” he murmured, ducking his head shyly. “Ah, I’m glad it came in useful. But does it work in the field?” 

Now it was Jim’s turn to look away. “Don’t know, Chief. Because I haven’t tried it. I don’t use the senses at work, you see. Just keep them locked down to normal. Didn’t want to risk using them without backup, and there was no way I wanted to risk you out there on those mean streets, kiddo. That’s why the message, Blair. It was a cowardly way of backing out of our agreement, I know, but I just didn’t feel right about taking you up on your offer. And when you didn’t call back, I guessed you were too pissed at me to bother.” 

“You didn’t leave your number, man,” Blair replied quietly. “And I didn’t get it for a while anyway. Sorry.” 

“How come, Chief? I mean, it was after the start of term, so I’d have thought you’d be back at Rainier by then?” 

Now Blair didn’t know what to say. This was going to be hard, and he wasn’t sure he was up to telling Jim the truth, any more than he thought it was right to lay it on Jim. Then again, Incacha had told him that they had to work together, two halves of one soul, and that couldn’t happen with half-truths and misunderstandings still between them. Decision made, he straightened up and met Jim’s perplexed gaze, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible. 

“Ah, I was on compassionate leave, Jim. See, Mom died shortly after I arrived in Florida, and I had to see to the funeral and stuff. So I didn’t get your message for several days. And as you never left your number, I thought that was it, and you wanted nothing more to do with me.” 

At that point, his voice cracked despite his best efforts to control it, and unwanted tears sheened his eyes as the pain of loss hit him once again. 

Jim was utterly horrified at the news, and at the effects the telling had on his visitor. God! How badly he had hurt Blair, even unwittingly. Sure, the kid hadn’t mentioned how sick his mom actually was, but Jim recalled the tone and wording of his message with shame and dismay. How it must have come over to a young man already stricken with grief at his loss! Cruel and callous wasn’t the half of it, and he was stricken with guilt. 

“My God, Chief, I’m so sorry! I had no idea, and I can’t apologise enough for hurting you like that. You must have thought I was a heartless bastard at best!” 

However, the last thing Blair wanted was for Jim to wallow in guilt, so he responded quickly. “It’s OK, Jim. I mean, yes, I was really hurt. I admit I didn’t think I could take any more hits at the time, but it wasn’t your fault that I didn’t tell you about Naomi. It wasn’t the time or place, and I didn’t want to distract you, or burden you with my problems. But more hurtful was you denying your gift. Now, that upset me far more, because I couldn’t get my head around why you wouldn’t want to use the senses for the good of the tribe. But I shouldn’t lay that on you, man. It’s not my place,” he finished sadly. 

“Now there you’d be wrong, Blair,” Jim said feelingly. “And you know it! You _should_ be kicking me in the ass and telling me to get with the programme! It’s what guides do. And you know it because you’ve seen it, am I right?” 

Puzzled, Blair stared at him, until the penny finally dropped, and his face cleared somewhat. “Um, did you by any chance have a dream last night, Jim? About a shaman called Incacha and a couple of spirit animals?” he asked nervously, praying he wasn’t making a fool of himself. 

But Jim’s wide grin was enough to relieve him of that notion. “Sure did, Chief, and Incacha was right to take me to task. We have a lot to talk about, and I have a lot to explain about my last mission in Peru – the non-restricted intelligence, that is. But first of all I need to know if we’re on the same page now? I don’t know where we go from here, but I finally realise that where ever it is, I don’t want to go it alone anymore. I missed you, Chief.” 

Blair’s smile was meltingly beautiful and his eyes glowed with love and happiness. “And I missed you too, man. So much. I’m just so happy that we were both shown the errors of our ways. I want to be with you, Jim. I don’t know how yet either, but I want it more than anything.” 

“Then that’s what we’ll do, babe,” Jim replied, his own smile tender and loving. 

“That’s what we’ll do,” he repeated, and he stretched his good hand out to Blair to take one of the younger man’s smaller hands in his. They both felt the slight buzz and tingle as their palms met, and the connection between sentinel and guide was renewed.  



	23. Prompt - Make-up sex

**Chapter 23: Prompt – Make-up sex:**   


As the pair sat quietly, relishing the touch of their hands and the peace and calm that seemed to settle over them, Blair’s tummy suddenly rumbled loudly, protesting its emptiness. He grinned bashfully, peeking up at Jim from beneath his lashes, and looking, did he but know it, totally adorable. 

Jim laughed out loud, and squeezed the smaller hand in his affectionately. “I think someone’s hungry,” he chuckled, enchanted by Blair’s blush. 

“Sorry, man. I guess I forgot to have breakfast again,” Blair mumbled. “Way to kill the moment, huh?” 

“No problem, Chief,” Jim replied. “Look, it’s way past midday anyway, and I could eat. You want something here?” 

“Only if you let me get it for you, man,” Blair answered with a grin. “If you tell me where everything is, I can do it. I enjoy cooking when I get the chance, especially in a great kitchen like this.” 

“Well, if you’re sure, Chief. I certainly won’t pass up the chance of being waited on for a change. Fancy an omelette?” 

Blair’s smile widened at the suggestion. “Oh yeah, man! Just the ticket! Just point me in the right direction!”  


\-----------------------------  


Shortly afterwards, both men pushed away their empty plates, comfortably replete. “That was a great omelette, kiddo,” Jim said with a grin. “Compliments to the chef!” 

“Thanks, man. I have to say I needed that,” Blair replied, his eyes warm. “I’ll get the clean-up done, and then I guess I should be making a move. I’m thinking you could do with a rest, Jim.” 

Jim frowned at that. “You don’t have to go, Blair. Sure, I’m feeling a bit tired, but I don’t want you to go. I was hoping to perhaps have more of a talk. There’s a lot I’d like to know about you, and I’ll try to reciprocate, even though talking’s not really my forte.” 

Blair’s grin widened at that. “Well, if you’re sure, Jim. I’d like to talk some more, and I don’t have anything at the U for the rest of the day. I could always work on my laptop if you want to take a nap. Do you need a hand getting up the stairs?” he added helpfully. 

Jim chuckled fondly. “Yeah, that’d be good, Chief. But I’d rest better if you stayed with me!” Suddenly he realised that he might have blown it, taking their new relationship too fast, too soon. But he needn’t have worried. Blair seemed to be completely on board with the idea, even though he was blushing again. 

“Uh, I’d like that, Jim. I…er…missed our cuddling together for warmth. I mean, it felt so safe and secure, and I really needed that in that cabin. And when I was having nightmares,” he added quietly. 

“And I missed it too, babe,” came the gentle reply. “Having you in my arms felt right, and my senses thoroughly enjoyed it. They’d enjoy it again if you’d come to bed with me now.” 

“OK then,” Blair said happily, getting to his feet to begin the clean-up. “Be with you in a jiff, man!” 

He was as good as his word, and in a very short time was offering his hand to help Jim get to his feet, the older man having stiffened up some during lunch. Jim wrapped his good arm around Blair’s shoulders, allowing the smaller man to take some of his weight as they climbed the stairs to his big bedroom. Easing himself down to sit on the side of the bed, he looked up at Blair, who was standing before him, looking a little uneasy. 

“Come on over here, Chief,” Jim encouraged gently. “It’s not as if we haven’t seen quite a bit of each other before. No need to be nervous.” 

Blair’s blush deepened as he squirmed a little. His problem was that he was reacting to Jim’s nearness and the situation, and he was certain that the sentinel would be able to tell. Just because they had cuddled close for warmth and comfort during their adventure, didn’t necessarily mean that Jim would want anything else from him. For all he knew, Jim was as straight as an arrow, and the relationship Incacha had talked about was a platonic one. OK, Jim had kissed him, but it had been so kind and gentle, perhaps it was meant to convey no more than that. His anxious musings were halted abruptly when Jim reached out and took his hand again; pulling him carefully until he stood between Jim’s spread knees. 

“Stop worrying, babe,” Jim ordered kindly. “I don’t need to be a sentinel to know that you’re attracted to me, because the feeling’s mutual, babe. I was attracted to you the first time I saw you at the station, even though I had no reason then to know what you might be to me. But if you don’t want to do more than cuddle, I can live with that. I’m not exactly up to much in the way of acrobatics anyway right now.” 

Blair smiled shyly down at him, although the relief in his expression was obvious. “Oh, man, I’m sorry to be such a wuss. I mean, yes, I am attracted to you as you can tell. And, um, I’m not exactly inexperienced,” he added a little shamefacedly, “even though I usually date women. Ah, you know when I mentioned Sweet Roy and the boxing lessons? Um, he taught me a few other things too. I guess you could say that he was my first proper boyfriend…” and now his blush spread from neck to hairline as he met Jim’s gaze again. 

Jim reached up and cupped his cheek with a warm palm. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, babe. That makes two of us. I mean, yeah, I did try marriage once, but it was a disaster in the making. And I like women too. It’s just that what I feel for you goes far beyond any other relationship I’ve had before, and we still hardly know that much about each other. But as long as we’re both willing, we can take it as it comes. So, bed now?” 

And this time Blair didn’t need asking twice. Smiling widely, he quickly stripped down to his boxers, then helped Jim to undress also. They were soon snuggled together in each other’s arms, although Blair was careful not to put any pressure on Jim’s bruises or cracked ribs. 

“Can I make love to you, Jim?” Blair murmured from his position tucked against Jim’s shoulder. “I mean, if you’re up to it. Nothing too energetic, I promise.” 

Jim didn’t need to think about it. “Sure, babe, that would be great. But only if you’re sure. And as long as I can imprint you too. I can manage that much!” 

Blair beamed at him, and immediately began to explore, his touch so gentle that Jim was soon beyond any feeling of discomfort. The young man seemed to know instinctively what the sentinel needed, and when he took Jim’s length into his mouth, Jim almost leapt off the bed in his excitement. Or at least, he would have done, if he’d been up to it. 

“Gods, babe! So good!” he moaned. “You sure you’re OK with this?” 

Blair nodded eagerly, not relinquishing his willing task. He knew Jim wasn’t up to a protracted lovemaking session this time, so he carefully increased his efforts until Jim was coming with a cry of ecstasy, gently suckling until the softened member slipped from between his lips. 

Barely coherent, Jim encouraged him to crawl back up and into his arms. 

“No words, Chief,” he whispered almost reverently. “That was the best. But I think you’ve worn me out!” 

“Mission accomplished, then,” Blair answered fondly. “It was my pleasure. Rest now, and then you can have your wicked way with me too. But only if you want.” 

“Oh, I want all right,” Jim murmured, eyes already closing. “Just give me a few,” and he fell asleep, feeling no pain, but just a sense of comfort and belonging, such as he’d never felt before. 

And it was all down to the bundle of warm and loving guide in his arms.  



	24. Prompt - Light My Fire

**Chapter 24: Prompt – Light My Fire:**   


Over the next few days, life for Blair became a whirlwind of activity, but he had never been happier. The renewed relationship with Jim had boosted his energy levels such that they were almost back to his previous ‘Energiser Bunny’ status, and his friends and colleagues were more than grateful to see the return of the spark so long missing in his beautiful baby blues. Every morning he woke bright and early, dividing his time between Rainier and the loft. His lectures and seminars were once again enthusiastically delivered and enjoyable for all but the most disinterested students, and he had begun to prepare the outline for his alternative dissertation, having received a conditional go-ahead from Simon Banks. Eli and his committee were happy to support him in his new endeavour, all of them to a man – and woman – glad to see the return of his bounce and his spirits. Although he still missed Naomi, and had the occasional moment of deep sadness when he realised he would never see her again in this life, when all was said and done, she had passed peacefully as she had wished, and it wasn’t as if they had seen much of each other for years now. 

And now he had found the one for whom he had been seeking all his life. The sentinel and lover who filled his heart with love and joy, and who fulfilled his need to be cherished and loved for himself rather than what services he could provide. 

It was true that he still harboured one or two reservations. He had been hurt enough in the past to know not to throw himself blindly and unconditionally into a relationship without some sort of safety net, and part of that safety net was keeping his own apartment, at least for the time being. Having said that, so far Jim had been everything he had ever wanted, and every time he was away from him, he couldn’t wait to be with him again. 

Of course, Jim wasn’t perfection personified, and Blair chuckled to himself as he pictured the man’s grimaces and complaints during the testing they were now routinely carrying out on his senses at the loft. But at the end of the day, Jim recognised that they were a necessary means to an end, and was grateful to Blair for his efforts and his ingenuity on Jim’s behalf. It was yet to be seen how he would be able to apply these techniques once he was back at work, but Blair was confident that Jim would cope. Especially if Blair could ride with him when he expected to use the senses, and that was something else about which both Blair and Jim could be quietly pleased. 

As he carefully locked up his office in order to spend the rest of the day with Jim at the loft, Blair couldn’t help but grin wryly as he recalled the meeting with Simon Banks a few days after Jim and Blair had gotten together again.  


\----------------------------  


After their first gentle lovemaking, as soon as Jim was rested enough, they had had quite a long discussion, pooling ideas about how and when Blair could help Jim at work. Blair had eagerly explained about how he had decided to change his dissertation to a paper on closed societies, but that he had had no luck so far in his application to study the Fire Department. However, if Jim’s boss could be persuaded to cooperate, perhaps he would have more luck getting an observer’s ride-along pass. That way he could both gather the necessary data he needed on the PD, and be on hand to back Jim up when needed. He had reiterated his decision not to pursue the ‘modern sentinel’ topic in order to preserve Jim’s anonymity, for which the older man was eternally grateful, even though he did feel a certain amount of guilt over Blair’s change of subject. However, the young man insisted that he had everything he wanted. If their plan was successful, he got to work with the sentinel of his dreams, and achieve his doctorate in due course also. And he was quick to reassure Jim that when that momentous day came, he wouldn’t simply up and leave. As long as Jim wanted and needed him, he intended to stay, and since Jim insisted that that would be for life, Blair couldn’t have been happier. 

So it was that when Simon called in a couple of days later to check on Jim’s progress, he found Blair there also, waiting to meet him in person and to put his case for obtaining observer status in MCU. 

After the necessary introductions had been made, Blair had launched into his prepared spiel, while Jim watched fondly from the side-lines. He was sure that the enthusiasm in the grad student’s demeanour and delivery would have won over the most hard-hearted cynic, so should be enough to convince Simon of its workability. Especially as he had already told his boss and friend about the senses anyway. And after all, Simon himself had previously encouraged Jim to seek Blair out, so hopefully this was just a formality. 

Then again, both men knew that it would be foolish to make any rash assumptions, so there was still an element of nervous anticipation while waiting for Simon’s decision. 

Simon had let Blair finish his presentation, then had kept them on tenterhooks for a while longer as he had requested a practical demonstration, and that was when they had run through the routine they had decided on earlier to best exhibit Jim’s gift, and Blair’s role in helping him use it. And it had to be said that, although Jim was not surprisingly less than enthusiastic at performing ‘circus tricks’ as he put it, Simon was duly impressed, and responded accordingly. 

Finally grinning widely, the older man had looked from one to the other as he said, “OK, OK! Consider me impressed, guys. I figured that Jim’s senses might be useful if he could learn to live with them, but I have to say that the potential as far as work is concerned is pretty darned exciting. I admit that I don’t really relish the idea of your presence in the department, Mr Sandburg, simply because I don’t like the idea of an untrained civilian accompanying Jim on possibly dangerous assignments, but then again, he already explained how well you conducted yourself during that night train episode. As long as you are aware of the danger, I have to trust you not to take unnecessary risks, just as I trust Jim to protect you to the best of his ability. 

“I’d like to think that eventually Jim would be able to work with another detective, but I can see that he doesn’t like that idea too much!” he continued, raising a sardonic eyebrow at Jim’s growl of dissatisfaction. “Thing is, once you get your paper accepted, what then? Will you leave him high and dry? I apologise if that offends you, but I need to know for Jim’s sake. He’s a friend as well as one of my team, and I care about his future.” 

Blair hadn’t been offended at all, even though Jim wasn’t happy. After all, Simon didn’t know him, and had every right to be suspicious. He had assumed his most persuasive expression and tone as he had replied. “I know you don’t know much about me yet, sir, but I can assure you that I have no intention of leaving Jim high and dry as you put it. I believe that my role as Jim’s companion is vital to his health and well-being, and I intend to take the responsibility seriously for as long as he needs me. 

“I don’t know yet what my future holds in academic terms once I get my doctorate, but I can assure you that it won’t stop me from being available for Jim when he needs me. 

“I do believe that, with practice, Jim might need me less and less as his control improves, but as there is always the remote possibility of a zone if he has to stretch too far, I need to be at least contactable. Does that answer your question satisfactorily, sir?” 

Simon had contemplated him seriously for a while, and then announced his verdict. “Fair enough, Mr Sandburg. It’ll do for now, so this is what I intend. When Jim is passed as fit to return for light duties, which all being well should be within the next few days, I shall expect you to come in with him. Get orientated, and such. I’ll get the paperwork started to grant you a 90 day ride-along pass, and we’ll take it from there. After that it’ll be incumbent on the pair of you to convince me that the arrangement should become more permanent, OK?” 

It had been a very happy and relieved pair who had seen him out, and Blair grinned to himself as he recalled just how they had celebrated their success!  


\------------------------------  


Blair was still grinning happily to himself as he drove to the loft. It was Friday afternoon, and he and Jim intended to spend the weekend together as Jim was due to return to work on the following Monday. He was still suffering a certain amount of discomfort from his ribs, and would have to test out again with firearms before going out in the field, to make sure that there were no side-effects from his strained shoulder muscles, but Blair knew that Jim didn’t anticipate any problems on that account. 

On the back seat of his ancient Corvair, his duffel bag had joined his ever-present backpack as Jim had suggested that he stay over on Friday and Saturday night, and Blair was looking forward to that in happy anticipation. Although he had stayed over once or twice, as a general rule he had returned to his apartment each night as he still didn’t feel right about accepting Jim’s offer of his spare room, or preferably his bed. He knew he was probably being over-cautious, but old habits died hard, and he still needed that show of independence. After all, he knew well enough that he wasn’t the easiest person to live with, having been told on many occasions that he was untidy and he talked too much. He had learned early on to move on before he was asked to leave, and the last thing he wanted was to impinge too much on Jim’s space, knowing how much the older man liked his privacy. No matter that Jim insisted he wanted his Guide in his territory and under his roof, Blair couldn’t quite bring himself to take that final step. 

Having said that, the loft was already feeling more like home to Blair than his own shabby apartment, which had a lot to do with the occupant, as he was well aware. The more time they spent together, the better they got to know each other, and had discovered that they had plenty in common. They were growing closer in friendship even as they were as lovers, and Blair realised that he had never before enjoyed such a blissful combination. And their lovemaking was more than satisfactory, for sure. 

Although they still hadn’t progressed to actual penetration, being careful to go slowly in deference to Jim’s healing injuries, each time they made love it seemed as if they were becoming closer both physically and spiritually, and their post-coital cuddling and pillow-talk was a comfort to them both. Jim’s senses sang when he imprinted his young guide and lover, and Jim the man knew he’d never had a more accommodating or considerate bed partner ever before, and he was always ready to tell Blair so. 

Pulling up outside 852 Prospect, Blair turned off the ignition and climbed out of the car, reaching in to grab backpack and duffel, eager to get to #307. He knew Jim would be there waiting for him, probably having heard his approach from some distance away, and he couldn’t resist murmuring sentinel-soft, “Here I am again, Big Guy. And looking forward to some fireworks later!” 

Too eager to wait for the ancient elevator, Blair jogged up the stairs and arrived at Jim’s door, to have it opened immediately even before he could knock, just as he had anticipated. 

Stepping over the threshold, he dropped backpack and duffel to the floor as soon as Jim had closed the door behind them, and moved immediately into the bigger man’s welcoming embrace. Snuggling close, he almost purred in contentment as Jim hugged him, leaning down to sniff at Blair’s neck behind his ear; an action Blair found both fascinating and erotic. The sentinel was checking out his guide, reassuring himself that Blair was happy and whole, and Blair loved him for it. 

Long moments later, Jim gently pushed him away, just far enough so that he could smile down into Blair’s upturned face, eagerly cataloguing the lovely features and especially drinking in the huge blue eyes that shone with love for him. 

“Hey, babe, have you had a good day? It’s so good to see you, Chief, especially as I have you to myself now for the whole weekend!” 

“Oh, it’s been good enough, lover, but all the better for being here now. After all, you did promise to light my fire tonight, didn’t you?” and he waggled his eyebrows, grinning lasciviously as Jim chuckled delightedly. 

“That I did, babe, that I did! But first, let’s eat, because I need you to keep your strength up!” 

“Oh, I’m so down with that, lover. And can I smell your signature homemade spaghetti sauce? What a treat!” and arm in arm they moved to the kitchen, where the food was waiting to be dished up.  


\-------------------------------  


Some while later, they sat back and grinned at each other over their empty plates. The meal had been every bit as delicious as Blair had expected it to be, and he was enjoying the afterglow from the two large glasses of wine he had drunk. Being wined and dined like this by his sentinel lover was a treat the like of which he had never had before, and he couldn’t have been happier. And what was even better was that Jim obviously enjoyed it too, such that they were both looking forward to an evening of making out on the sofa before retiring to bed for the promised fireworks. What could be better? 

However, perhaps he should have known that things were too good to be true, although in retrospect he was to find out that the upcoming disaster did turn out to have a silver lining after all. 

Having taken care of the clean-up, the two men were just making themselves comfortable on the sofa, with Jim flicking through the TV channels looking for the most recent Jags game, when Blair’s cell phone rang. Although tempted to ignore it, when Blair looked at the caller ID, he knew he had to answer, giving Jim an apologetic smile as he did so. Becky Maddox, his student helper, wouldn’t have been ringing him unless there was some sort of emergency, so he answered with no little feeling of trepidation, hoping that the personable young woman was OK. But how right he was to be concerned, although it turned out to be on his own behalf. Tapping his ear to indicate that he was OK with Jim listening in, he received the news that his apartment building had been virtually gutted by fire, and that he was now homeless. 

According to Becky, one of the other occupants had been having a party on the floor above, and it had gotten out of hand. Some drunken idiot had managed to set fire to a deep fat fryer, and the whole place had had to be evacuated. Luckily, there had been no casualties, but because the place was borderline when it came to building regulations and fire-preventative measures, very little could be done to save it. What hadn’t been burned was destroyed by water damage, and it was unlikely that any insurance company would touch it. 

By the time the call was finished, with Blair just about present enough to remember to thank her for contacting him so quickly, shock was setting in, and Jim reached for him, pulling him close as Blair began to tremble. 

In reality, most of Blair’s books, papers and artefacts were kept safely in his office on campus, and he already had his precious laptop with him in his backpack, as well as a change of clothes in his duffel. Once he remembered it, he also had Naomi’s legacy to fall back on, so he wouldn’t be exactly destitute. But there had been a few irreplaceable mementoes and photographs of himself and Naomi that were now gone without trace, and that hurt most of all. 

Lacking the appropriate words of comfort, Jim simply held him, rocking him gently as his eyes welled up with tears. However, once again Blair surprised him with his resilience when he eventually looked up to meet Jim’s worried gaze, a watery smile gracing his face as he said shakily, “You know, man, when I was hoping for you to light my fire tonight, I didn’t mean it literally!” 

And then he buried his face in Jim’s neck and held on for all he was worth.  



	25. Prompt - plot what plot

**Chapter 25: Prompt – plot what plot:**

**Jim: six months later, MCU bullpen:**  


Jim saved the report he’d just completed, and hit ‘print’, a smug smile of satisfaction on his handsome face as the printer buzzed into life. Although he was pleased with himself for finally dotting all the ‘i’s and crossing the ‘t’s, he freely admitted that it was Blair who had done the better part of the work, pulling together all the information Jim needed to finalise the paperwork that closed the case. It was just that he was usually here to do the typing also, being so much more IT literate than Jim, and a super-fast typist at that, but Jim knew he couldn’t complain. His Guide had another life at Rainier also, and Jim was just grateful that so far the energetic young man seemed to be able to juggle his responsibilities to the U and to his Sentinel as well as he did. And of course it was up to Jim to make sure that Blair didn’t overdo it, and got the relaxation he needed, a thought that made Jim’s smug grin even wider. 

In the six months since Blair had moved in with him, the pair had grown so much closer that sometimes their friends just had to smile. They interacted almost seamlessly, sometimes even finishing each other’s sentences, such that anyone who saw them together could be forgiven for thinking that they were joined at the hip. And it never ceased to amaze his colleagues that Jim ‘Lone Wolf’ Ellison could have been so completely taken over by the ebullient grad student. 

It hadn’t started out like that, though, and Jim couldn’t help but recall Blair’s dismay when his apartment had been destroyed. Despite Jim’s reassurances, the young man had little in the way of self-confidence, and confessed to Jim that he didn’t think it would be a good idea for him to move into the loft. He bashfully explained how past attempts at sharing accommodation had foundered, believing that he was too difficult to live with, but Jim had soon set him straight – in a manner of speaking! 

Yes, it was true that Blair was untidy. And his idea of cleaning was never going to match up to sentinel standards, but he did his best anyhow, and Jim had to give him credit for that. On the other hand, he was a great cook, and was diligent in his search for sentinel-friendly products to make Jim’s life easier. And although it was also true that he talked a lot, even if Jim sometimes tuned him out when he got into lecture mode, he still enjoyed the way the rich tones soothed his senses anyway. 

And Jim had to appreciate the way that Blair’s homely touches had made the loft into a real home rather than just a place to lay his head. He truly didn’t miss his personal space, preferring to have a warm bundle of Blair near at hand to hug and cuddle whenever he wanted. The fact that he had put Blair’s name on the lease had also reassured Blair that he would never be thrown out, and with Naomi’s legacy as well as his small teaching salary from Rainier, he could pay his way, which boosted his confidence no end. 

Walking over to the printer to retrieve his report, Jim nodded affably at a couple of his colleagues in passing, which in turn triggered another train of thought. The way Blair had made himself an integral part of the MCU team. Initially more than a little nervous, and despite Simon’s rather obvious scepticism, the young man had managed to carve himself a niche in a very short space of time. Affable, out-going and helpful, he had soon won over all but the most cynical of detractors, and the fact that Jim had mellowed noticeably on an almost daily basis had completed the process. Not only that, but he had already contributed to several complex investigations, his quick mind often making connections that the more prosaic detectives might not see. Some of his suggestions might seem to come from left field, but they were nearly always useful, and Jim was proud of the way the department’s stats – and his own, to tell the truth – had risen conspicuously since Blair’s arrival. 

But best of all, as far as Jim was concerned, was the way their relationship had grown and developed, such that he knew that as a sentinel and guide pairing, as well as a ‘Jim and Blair’ thing, it was about as good as it could get. With Blair at his side, he could use the senses with ease, and even when the young man couldn’t be with him, he could use them comfortably enough, even if to a lesser extent as he had no intention of risking a zone in his Guide’s absence. And if his fellow cops realised that he had some sort of edge which Blair apparently helped him to utilise, then they weren’t going to complain. The department’s ever-improving success rate was something that reflected satisfactorily on them all, so they weren’t about to knock it. 

Of course, Blair still had to fulfil his obligations to the U, but only the previous evening he had proudly announced to Jim that the rough draft of his new diss was ready to present to his committee, and if they approved, he could go ahead and tidy it up for submission. It was far quicker than Jim had expected, but as Blair had explained, he had good reason to complete as soon as possible. Since his original 90 day pass had expired, and he was worried that his presence as an observer wouldn’t be tolerated indefinitely by TPTB, he had made cautious enquiries about seeking an official position as a paid civilian consultant. The upshot was that he had been told that as soon as he had those three letters after his name, the role would be there for the taking. Several other Police Departments throughout the country had already created positions for a consultant anthropologist, and Cascade’s Mayor, the Chief of Police and the Commissioner all considered that it was something from which they would benefit. Jim couldn’t have been more proud of him, and relieved on his own behalf, because Blair had assured him that he would always give riding with Jim top priority. 

Taking his report back to his desk, ostensibly to read it through, he was really listening out for his partner. Blair had had to spend the morning at the U, but had promised Jim he’d come in to the PD as soon as possible so that they could have lunch together. They also had a few leads to follow up for a new case, and Blair’s flair for research was bound to turn up something. However, Jim felt his concentration slipping again as he was overtaken by the responses Blair’s physical presence inevitably conjured up in him, and he shifted a little in his seat as he felt his jeans tighten uncomfortably. Grinning wryly, he tried unsuccessfully to ease the pressure a bit, while remembering with the clarity of sentinel recall the momentous occasion when they had gone all the way for the first time. 

It had actually occurred not long after Blair had rather reluctantly moved into the loft and Jim had gone back to work, albeit on light duties for a while. Blair had been stressing about becoming a burden to Jim, and Jim had finally snapped. “For once and for all, Chief, you are _not _a burden! Don’t even _think_ about looking for alternative accommodation! I want you here with me, understand? We belong together. Incacha said it, and you know it!” __

__Blair had gazed at him open-mouthed, and Jim hadn’t held back. He was feeling pretty much back to normal, and he wasn’t about to pussyfoot around anymore. Reaching out, he had pulled Blair to him, hugging him tightly as he lowered his head to lick and suck at the elegant neck, marking the Guide as his own. And Blair had melted on the spot. They had barely made it up the stairs before clothes were being shed willy-nilly, and they had fallen on the bed in a tangle of limbs. Jim had taken the initiative, and begun to imprint his Guide’s sweet body, working it until Blair was writhing with heated lust._ _

__“Take me, Jim? Please? I want you so much!”_ _

__And there was no way Jim was going to deny him. The time was right, and they both knew that they had been leading up to this. Jim had prepared his lover with exquisite care, and when he entered the pliant body, the brief pain soon turned to heated desire, and they had moved together in perfect synchronicity. Angling his thrust to massage Blair’s ‘pleasure button’ had elicited a scream of wonder and burst of pure lust as Blair begged for, “More, please, Jim, more!” and Jim had readily complied._ _

__When they had come as one, mere moments later, they both shared the most amazing vision. In a blue-tinted jungle, Jim’s black jaguar and Blair’s wolf ran eagerly towards each other across the clearing, leaping to merge in a flash of understanding and light. Sentinel and Guide knew each other intimately again, as they had always known, and always would; and as Incacha looked on with a smile of gentle satisfaction, they had gazed into each other’s eyes, understanding that the circle was once again complete. They were as one. Two halves of one soul as Incacha had predicted, and they would never be alone again in this world or the next._ _

__Just then, Jim was distracted by a summons from his captain. “Ellison! My office, now. And bring the Lansing report with you!”_ _

__Grinning wryly, Jim rose to his feet, clutching the report as he made his way over to Simon’s office._ _

__“You yelled, sir?” he asked innocently, his grin broadening as Simon chuckled, shaking his head in wry appreciation._ _

__“Go on, detective! Take a load off,” he said, indicating the chair in front of his desk. “Coffee? This one’s pretty good, even though I have no idea what the blend is!”_ _

__When Jim nodded agreeably, he busied himself in preparing two mugs before sitting down at his desk again. Peering over the rim of his mug, he gazed speculatively at his subordinate for a moment before saying, “You know, Jim, for a moment there, I thought you were having one of those zone things. Or that you’d completely lost the plot! What gives?”_ _

__Jim snickered ruefully. “Nah, Simon. No zones allowed, or I’d never hear the end of it! You could be right about losing the plot for a moment though. I was listening out for Blair’s arrival. He should be finishing at the U soon, and we’re going to check out some leads on that new case. If anyone can find the source of those embezzled funds from the Mayor’s pet charity, it’ll be Blair.”_ _

__Simon nodded thoughtfully. “You could well be right there, Jim. That boy’s been of far more use to the department than I’d ever have believed, I freely admit. You two make a better team than I’ve ever seen, and I don’t mind saying it. But don’t tell the kid how much I appreciate him, though. Can’t ruin my rep as the big, bad-tempered grouch!”_ _

__“Wouldn’t dream of it sir,” Jim chuckled. “Although I think he’s probably seen through you already. But you’re right. I never wanted another police partner after Jack, but Blair’s more than that. He’s like my other half, and I’m pretty sure I couldn’t live without him. Or would want to.”_ _

__Sobering immediately, Simon growled, “Shit, Jim! Don’t say things like that! But all being well, at least you shouldn’t have to as far as working at the PD is concerned, will you? Once he’s gotten that doctorate under his belt, I think he’s going to be a great asset to the PD as a whole as well as for you.”_ _

__“That he will, Simon,” Jim agreed smugly. “He’s already told me that he’s turned down the offer of a full-time professorship at Rainier in favour of a part-time teaching role because he wants to spend more time at the PD. I just don’t know how I got so lucky!”_ _

__“Perhaps because you deserve it, my friend,” Simon replied feelingly. “And so does he. Between you, you probably make the best couple I’ve ever seen also – not that I need to know any details, of course. As your captain what I don’t know can’t affect my judgement regarding regulations. But as your friend, I’m pleased to see you so happy and contented._ _

__“And I certainly can’t complain at the way my department’s performance ratings have shot up!”_ _

__Suddenly he realised he’d lost Jim’s attention, but he just chuckled in fond exasperation. Jim’s face wore a gentle smile as he tilted his head slightly in a listening pose. Blair was on his way up, and all was right in the Sentinel’s world._ _

__And who could begrudge him that?  
_ _

__**The End** _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is - my second full card bingo story. I'd like to thank all those who offered such support and encouragement during its creation, and also everyone for reading it. Hopefully it has proved as entertaining for you all as it has been for me while writing it! :)
> 
>  
> 
> Kate x


End file.
